


Seeing Through to Your Soul

by SaydriaWolfe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stargate SG-1
Genre: BDSM, Canon-Typical Violence, Clint gets collared, Discussion of Rape, Discussion of Torture, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom Tony Stark, F/M, Fantasy fulfillment: Nazis kicked off the planet, Fuck what MCU did to Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver, M/M, Major Character Death-offscreen, Multi, Sub Clint Barton, Sub Darcy Lewis, Switch Sharon Carter, he likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 60,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaydriaWolfe/pseuds/SaydriaWolfe
Summary: The Chitauri Invasion changes everything. Some changes are more personal than others.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill, Phil Coulson/Melinda May, one time-Tony Stark/Clint Barton/Sharon Carter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1-6

**Title**: Seeing Through to Your Soul  
**Author**: Saydria Wolfe  
**Fandom**: MCU and Stargate  
**Genre**: Mutant AU  
**Relationship**: one time-Tony Stark/Clint Barton/Sharon Carter, Tony Stark/Clint Barton, Phil Coulson/Melinda May, Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson  
**Content Rating**: NC-17  
**Warnings**: Canon-level Violence, Major Character Death (offscreen, Natasha Romanoff), Discussion of Torture, Discussion of Rape  
**Author Notes**: 1.) This story was written in the November 2018 Mutant AU Rough Trade Challenge. Thank you to Keira Marcos for running the event and everyone that makes that amazing community everything it is. It is a gift and a great deal of fun. 10/10, highy recommend. 2.) Thank you to my lovely Betas PN Ztivokreb and MyRedTurtle for all their advice, if I didn’t take it that’s on me. 3.) There's a bunch of banners that have been made for this story. If you wanna see them, you can go checkout [this story](https://wp.me/P7xhEp-wy) on my website. I am not figuring out how to add art here. #SorryNotSorry 4.) Also, I borrowed some lines from the Avengers movie, mostly so you can spot the divergent point. It is by no definition of the term _subtle_.  
**Word Count**: 59,881  
**Summary**: The Chitauri Invasion changes everything. Some changes are more personal than others.

# Chapter One

"A hero? Like you?" Tony scoffed. "You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a _bottle_.

"You were _nothing_ before Erskine found you. And now, you're nothing but an idiot. You've walked right into the cage and you can't even see the bars. When they woke you up, did they tell you about the Mutant Registration Act? Or how it applies to you?” He got right in Steve Rogers’s stupid, perfect face. "You realize you're what the Act classifies as a ‘mutate’, right? Do you know what that even means? Or have they kept you in the dark on that like they have with everything else?"

"Mr. Stark? Captain Rogers, why don't we all just _calm down_."

There was a weird kind of _command_ in Coulson's tone that helped Tony take a step back and breathe.

Unfortunately, all his stepping back did was encourage Rogers to step right back up into his face, "Put on the suit. Let's go a few rounds."

"You people are all so petty," Thor laughed. "And tiny."

Things got out of control real quick from there. One second, Banner was confessing to attempting suicide and cutting Tony off at the knees. The next, he was on the floor nearly face to face with Captain fucking America. Emergency lights were on, Banner and Coulson were nowhere to be seen, and Cap was looking at him, eye to eye, across inches of glass-strewn floor.

"Put on the suit," he _requested_ like they were suddenly friends or something.

And, yeah, okay. Tony could roll with this. He nodded, "Yeah."

And then they were falling from the sky and fixing an engine. Banner was fine, but Thor was missing. Coulson had Barton, but Romanoff was dead. Tony was sitting on the bridge of the Helicarrier, not even sure how he got there, as Fury blabbed on about something. Something about a team and—

Oh.

Of course, he wanted to get the Avengers out of this.

Of course, he did.

Tony left. When he found himself again, he was at the scene of the crime. The blood splashes painted a bold picture of a gruesome struggle. Romanoff had not gone down easy. No, she had not.

He thought she'd be proud, that she’d put on a good show.

"Oh, fuck." A good _show_. This was all a show.

Thor had all but said it. Loki had _shown_ them, practically handed it to them in Germany.

This wasn't about a _throne._ Earth had no throne. This was all just a tantrum and a distraction. This whole disaster was Loki throwing a fit and he wanted the whole world—all of Thor's beloved, precious Earth—to see it.

He talked it out with Cap. He was a genius but not, strictly speaking, a tactician. Cap agreed that it tracked, though.

"How long will it take to fix your suit?"

"For a flight back to the Tower?" Tony asked. "Give me a half hour. For a fight? Not happening."

"You have more suits in the Tower."

"Bet your ass, I do."

"You'll get there before us. Get your suit and get out." Cap ordered. "If you have to, distract him but do not engage."

"Us?" Tony asked. "Us include Banner?"

"If he wants. This is volunteer only. Either way, I need a pilot."

Next time Tony saw him, the Captain had pulled a _fucking_ team together. From where, Tony had no idea, but they were waiting for him on the ramp of a quinjet.

Barton, he recognized from the list of possible Avengers. Okay, he didn't really. Connecting faces and names was not his thing, but the bow in his hand and the quiver on his back fucking gave it away.

Coulson, he had never expected to see him in a black SHIELD bodysuit. It was a surprisingly good look for the guy, his suits hid _a lot_. And holy holster porn, Batman. Two on each thigh, one on each calf, forearms, biceps, some sort of back harness with two larger guns that had to be fucking magnetized to it or something because there was no visible strap work across the guns. Oh, and he had what looked like the rifle form of a _volcano _in his hands.

"Codename's Bishop," was his only comment. Which, okay.

There was a tiny Asian woman at his side. She was more moderately armed with two nine millimeters in thigh holsters and—

"Is that an EXO-7 wingsuit?" Tony asked.

"A slightly altered KITE model," she smirked at him. "Someone has to catch Hawkeye when he inevitably falls off a building."

Hawkeye muttered, "That was one time!" and was thoroughly ignored.

"Can you? Catch him, I mean?" Because Hawkeye had to be twice her size at the very least.

"On my own, no. But with a little help,” she shrugged. “Exactly none of us are going into this without a little help."

She was also rocking wrist cuffs with shiny blue light edging. The look on her face warned him not to ask. See, Pepper? He was learning. "Codename?"

"Cavalry."

"Well, the modern-day cavalry should definitely arrive on wings." They shared a smirk and he turned to Cap.

"Where's Banner?"

"Meditating, inside," Cap jerked his head to indicate the quinjet. "He's trying to see if he can get the other guy to follow my orders."

"Sounds like a plan. We ready for this?"

"As we'll ever be," Cap nodded tiredly and gestured the others up the ramp. "We'll be ten minutes slower than you."

"Yeah, well, I'm not waiting up."

"Don't get dead."

"Awe, Cap, you're gonna make me blush."

"Yeah, yeah,” and he turned to follow the others up the ramp. “Punk."

Tony let them get the ramp closed before taking off. Unless he missed his guess, this team thing might just be fun.

-*-

"What have we got, Hawkeye?" the Captain asked as he, Bishop, and Cavalry regrouped between waves.

"A sudden, violent aversion to a woman wrapping her legs around me ever again," the archer answered a little too honestly and Tony was suddenly glad he could laugh without it being broadcast to the entire team.

"It was indeed an impressive feat," Thor intoned so gravely that JARVIS was the only reason Tony didn't laugh himself right out of the sky.

"Terrifying, Thor. The word you're looking for is terrifying."

"_What?_" Captain America demanded.

"Later, I got a James Bond movie to show you," Hawkeye promised. "Right now, we got a ton of telekinetic shields going up all over the place. Civilians covering their own retreats, which is made of awesome.

“Several feral-looking fighters on the streets, tearing shit apart with tooth and claw. I hope they got mouthwash on quick draw, because these bastards do _not_ look tasty. There's a trio of what I'm calling Harpy Girls fucking up squads down on Sixth in ways I would honestly rather not see again. Some sort of spider kid swinging around in a ski mask. And last—but definitely not least—a dude is throwing something that explodes. Playing cards, I think. Maybe rocks. Nope, both."

"What the hell is going on?" Captain muttered as Tony landed to bounce his palm beams off the guy’s shield and cleared a swath.

"I know," Cavalry said with certainty.

"You know what's happening to these people?" Captain America clarified.

"Yeah," Cavalry agreed. "They’re mutating."

"What?" Tony demanded even as he hit the air again. "How can you know that? We don't know what causes mutations. Maybe there are just more mutants in New York than anyone thought."

"We have theories about mutation. Some are better than others." Coulson hummed as he changed clips. "Stress and imminent danger are what most theorists agree on."

"If anything is enough to make someone's X-Gene kick on," Hawkeye chirped, "it's gotta be this."

"Nothing like an alien invasion," Tony agreed, though he personally was leaning toward alien energy rather than the current level of danger. Who knew what kind of radiation the Tesseract was putting out? Or the portal? Or the _guns_ these assholes were shooting. And they were probably covered in deep space radiation, seeing as not a one of them has anything recognizably like a containment suit or even armor currently equipped.

"I'm mutating," Cavalry announced, ending the debate. "I can feel it."

"Hell yeah!" Clint cheered. "Welcome to the club. Show us what you can do!"

"Watch this," she smirked and took a deep breath. When Cavalry exhaled it came out in a jet of fire so hot it immediately turned the head of the alien in front of her to slag that dripped down the thing’s body in a grotesque display. The one behind it and to one side exploded from sheer proximity to the heat, and the one behind that's helmet _melted_, sending it twitching to the ground. In pain or dead, didn't matter. It was not going anywhere.

Also, gross. Tony turned away to look for another whale. He found one and started to calculate his course, but JARVIS jerked him back as something flew through the air, inches from where he had been.

"Found the spider-kid!"

As he watched, spider-kid landed on the thing’s back. He then shot spider webs from both of his hands. Two solid hits connected on the space whale's face, and the kid _pulled_. He pulled and the whale had no choice but to curve up. He pulled harder and the whale curved too much.

Even through the suit, Tony could hear the thing's spine _crack_ and watched as its metal armor plates cut into its own flesh. Unsurprisingly, the thing collapsed immediately.

"Can we keep him?" Tony asked, mostly not joking. "Seriously, where do I get me one of those?"

Hawkeye laughed at him. "Keep him in on piece and then, maybe, ask?"

"On it," he swore as he sent the last of his mini missiles to clear the Chitauri waiting for his spider-kid as he surfed the whale down to the ground.

"You, me," he said over his external speaker, "we're talking later."

He could see the kid's eyes go wide through the ski mask. "Uh, yes, Mr. Stark. Of course, Mr. Stark."

“Hawkeye, get out of there!” Cavalry called.

Tony jerked up to see a trio of Chitauri speeders closing on Hawkeye’s position. He watched as the man reached up to his quiver only to realize it was empty.

“J, hit the gas,” he ordered, already knowing he wasn’t going to make it.

He watched as Barton pulled an arrow from a dead Chitauri, shoved it back into his quiver, and leapt off the building. He twisted as he fell, pulled his single arrow back out, and shot it at the building across the way. To Tony’s surprise a rope, a _fucking_ _rope_, flew from the bow. It connected to the other building, and the archer hung onto his bow for dear life as he swung toward it.

Tony wouldn’t reach him, but he could maybe soften his landing a little bit. He shot out three of the building's plate glass windows.

Of course, his team mate didn’t go through either of the two that fully blew out, he went through the one that had shattered, but was still in place. Because that was just how these things worked, apparently. Still, cuts were better than a pair of broken ankles or legs.

A tired, “Thanks, Tony,” came across the coms.

“Stark, you hear me?” Fury demanded before Tony could respond.

“Loud and clear, One-Eye.”

“You got a present bearing down on your position! Nuclear!”

He turned toward the Helicarrier. “Fuck.”

“ETA three minutes!”

“JARVIS, it’s go-time.”

“I have put everything toward thrusters, Sir,” JARVIS assured him as they rocketed forward.

“They’re retreating!” three voices called out together.

“Loki’s getting away!” Cap countered furiously.

“Not for long,” Hawkeye assured them.

Tony had no idea what Barton did but Thor’s fierce, “Well done, Brother Hawk,” told him all he really needed to know.

He and JARVIS crossed the missile going opposite directions at the Manhattan Bridge. The turn was nauseating but soon he was shouldering a motherfucking _nuke_, trying desperately to redirect it.

“I can close the portal!” Coulson announced.

“Wait, no!” And then he was cuddled between his building and the nuke. It was brief, for like a few seconds, but it was still an experience he could have lived without.

“Stark?” And then he flew past the top of the building. “Is that a fucking _nuke_?” Coulson demanded.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

“Stark,” Captain America shouted, “that’s a one-way tri—”

And everything was dark. Coms were gone. JARVIS was gone. _Oxygen _was gone. The sight before him was horrifying. An alien armada—aimed right at Earth.

The mothership in the middle reached out toward him like a four-fingered hand. He released the missile and watched it fly straight on target, illuminating even as it destroyed the true terror before him.

If he had the energy, he’d have thrown a peace sign just for the sheer irony of it.

-*-

Steve watched Stark disappear into the hole in the sky, the missile that made everyone so tense and furious on his back. He barely even noticed as the rear guard—the Chitauri covering the retreat—collapsed all around them and in the sky. Instead, he waited for some sign. He waited for the smallest possibility of return, but there was nothing.

“Close it.”

“Cap?” Coulson hesitated.

“We can’t risk them coming back.” Steve hated it, but hundreds—possibly thousands—of lives had already been lost or irrevocably changed. Millions of lives were hanging in the balance. More than the city, a planet was hanging in the balance.

“On it,” Coulson confirmed.

The beam died. Slowly, like it was bleeding out. But once it was gone the portal closed, like a tide. Fast and inevitable. Just as the sky sealed itself a tiny gold and red beacon tumbled its way through.

“Mother—” Cavalry cut herself off with a shake of her head, but she was smiling.

“He’s not slowing down,” Steve and Thor realized together. Thor started to spin his hammer, readying for take-off, but then the Hulk shot out of nowhere and caught their comrade. The big man wrecked three buildings in his effort to slow himself down, but Steve hardly cared as he set Tony gently—for him—at their feet.

Thor popped off Tony’s faceplate and Steve looked at him. Steve truly saw Tony Stark for the first time. Howard’s face with Peg’s eyes, fueled by Bucky’s snark. Everything he’d lost, all in one package. Lost again, making the sacrifice play because Steve had _dared_ him—

Hulk roared and Tony’s eyes flew open, his whole body jerked. “What the hell?” he panted in a panic; brown eyes wide. “What just happened?”

“We won,” Steve told him, relief bubbling in his chest like laughter.

“Guys,” Cavalry’s no-nonsense tone cut through the celebratory mood that was flooding the streets. “We still need to secure Loki.”

“Right,” Tony agreed as Thor pulled him to his feet. “Bullwinkle first, then shawarma.”

“Shawarma?” Thor asked, looking doubtful.

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is either, but it smells amazing. There’s a shawarma joint like, two blocks from here. Drive past it all the time.”

“Bullwinkle first,” Steve chided.

Tony’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face, “Race you!” And he took off.

Steve rolled his eyes and shared a grin with Thor. Thor offered him one hand while winding up his hammer in the other. They clasped each other’s forearms and Thor pulled him right off his feet and through the air.

Flying was—well, he was shamelessly relieved once his feet solidly connected with the Iron Man landing pad. Thankfully, Thor didn’t do more than smile at him when he nodded his thanks.

“Coming through!” Hawkeye shouted as they reached the balcony doors.

He turned in time to see Hawkeye hit something on his chest, catapult himself away from Cavalry, somersault through the air, and land with one hand on the ground.

“And he nails the landing,” Hawkeye smirked as he rose.

Cavalry rolled her eyes and pointedly said nothing as she landed beside him, her wings automatically folding themselves into her rucksack. “Ideas for magical containment? I don’t think the Ancient One makes house calls.”

“The Allfather anticipated Loki’s unwillingness to cooperate,” Thor told them as he pulled a leather and brass contraption from inside his cloak.

“What’s that?” Steve asked but Thor just gave him a look of so much pain he couldn’t push the matter. It looked like maybe a muzzle plus some, and Thor was supposed to use it on his brother. If he were Thor and Bucky were Loki? Yeah, no. Steve didn’t even want to think about it, he just clasped Thor on the shoulder comfortingly.

Hulk landed on the balcony and he could see Tony waiting for them just inside the door. Coulson was with him, holding the scepter. “Come on, let’s get this done.”

-*-

“Sir, Directory Fury, Agent Rumlow, and Agent Hansen have landed on the roof,” JARVIS told them maybe three minutes after Loki was muzzled and cuffed.

Tony shot a look at Coulson. The guy’s face never changed, he never gave anything away, but Tony knew he was not pleased. If the way May and Barton closed ranks on either side of him meant anything, all three of them were, in fact, worried about their Director’s sudden appearance.

Tony, for his part, leaned back on the bar with indolent set to max as he clutched a tumbler full of apple juice just as the elevator dinged and Fury stepped out flanked by two big guys in black tac gear.

There was something...weird about him. About all three of them actually, but, mostly, Fury was the concern.

“Aren’t you supposed to come through the chimney?” he asked before Fury could even open his mouth. He frowned dramatically at Steve. “That’s what ole Saint Nick does, right? Chimneys? I mean, it’s why I didn’t install any.”

“That’s how I remember it,” Steve agreed, rolling his water bottle between his hands. “What can we do for you, Director Fury?”

“We’re here for Loki and the scepter.”

Predictably, Thor jumped to his feet, “My brother is not yours for the taking.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to second that,” Tony frowned. “Pretty sure the whole ‘Prince of Asgard’ thing entitles him to some sort of diplomatic immunity.”

“He has to be questioned,” May countered from her spot at Coulson’s left though she didn’t look happy about it.

Tony shrugged, “So, we’ll do it. We’re the best source of containment, we’re responsible for him.”

“We already established on the Helicarrier that he won’t answer Thor’s questions,” Fury objected. “But questions need answering. We need to be sure nothing else is coming. People deserve to know why their loved ones died.”

Yeah, no. Fury totally just wanted more weapons like the scepter, weapons that would make Phase 2 look like a kid’s Pick-up Sticks. Tony would bet the farm on it.

“We deserve to know who shot a nuke at us,” Hawkeye countered, as always shooting straight for the heart of the matter before anyone else even saw the matter coming.

Fury looked, well, furious. All but grinding his teeth that one of his own agents questioned him. “The World Security Council, despite my objections, gave the order. I shot down the first bird, Stark got the second.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony smirked. “How would they have justified killing a city full of innocents and active defenders? Or would they have just let someone else take the fall? You, maybe?”

“Thankfully, we’ll never know.

“And if you don’t let me take Loki, we’ll never know what else he has planned, either.”

Tony flicked a look at Steve who just looked resigned. Yeah, he couldn’t see a way out of this one either. Except. “Loki or the scepter, you only get one.”

Fury’s unimpressed face was epic, but Tony was not moved. He glanced at the other Avengers and settled on his three agents. “Debrief, tomorrow on the Helicarrier, 0500.”

“I believe the assignment of our work duties now lies in the hands of Dr. Stark, Director Fury.” Phil said evenly.

It was the politest _fuck no _Tony had ever heard. He was impressed.

“The Avengers officially work for the Maria Stark Foundation,” Tony said in answer to Fury’s incredulous look. “Because the Maria Stark Foundation doesn’t shoot nuclear weapons at their people on the ground.”

“There is no Maria Stark Foundation,” Fury really was grinding his teeth this time.

“It's the newest addition to Stark Industries business portfolio. I’m surprised you didn’t already know this. I thought you knew everything.”

The director’s eyes all but glowed in fury.

“Loki,” he ordered the pair of bully boys behind him.

They both moved together to the wingback chair they’d settled Loki in after he finished his drink and was cuffed without a word. They lifted him out of the chair. Well, they tried to. He was too heavy for them, to Tony’s unending amusement.

Blondie stepped back and immediately pulled a taser while Black Hair pulled a shock baton and informed Loki, “You can cooperate or you will be forcibly removed from the premises.”

And suddenly Tony was not so amused any more.

Even around the muzzle, Loki’s obnoxious smirk was obvious as he stood easily and followed the two assholes to the elevator with Fury bringing up the rear.

“I don’t like this,” Barton informed them the moment the elevator dinged closed and the light indicated they’d moved back toward the roof. “None of you had a problem with that?”

“Would you like my problems with that in alphabetical or chronological order?” Tony snarked.

At the same time Steve looked away, “He has to be questioned.”

“His eyes were _green_.” Clint hissed, more like a cat than the bird he was named for.

“Mine brother’s eyes have always been green,” Thor frowned at him.

“They were blue when he landed in Selvig’s lab,” Clint informed him. “And blue the entire time he had me under his thumb.”

“They were blue on the Helicarrier,” Steve agreed as Hulk started to toddle off like a drunken insomniac.

Thankfully, he just collapsed on one of the couches and started to shrink.

“They were blue when he threw me out the window,” Tony confirmed. Then he tapped out a beat on the arc reactor in his chest, “This shade of blue. Just like Birdbrain’s were, actually.”

That was when he noticed that Barton wouldn’t look directly at him. Which made him wonder if the Glowstick of Destiny made the entire world blue while you were under its spell? If so, did the glow from his chest just hit too close to home for the guy? This called for experimentation. But, not right now.

“Could _he_ have been mind-controlled?”

“I cannot recall the color of Loki’s eyes prior to the battle,” Thor tilted his head in thought. “But I have faith you speak truly. I have failed my brother.” There was an _again_ at the end of that sentence that Tony was not going to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“So, what, we’re thinking he was mind-controlled this entire time?” Steve asked to clarify. “That he attacked Earth against his will?”

“It is the most sensible explanation,” Thor nodded. “My brother is not the kind to lead armies. Or to court war. He has the training, of course. He is a Prince of Asgard and he is no coward, but he has not the temperament for such sport.”

“And he didn’t actually do a very good job,” Clint interjected. “You know, for a well-trained prince.”

“So, someone used that stick on him and then gave it to him?” Tony asked. “Or did he have that stick before?”

“I have never seen this scepter before,” Thor said as they all turned toward it. “Daggers and magic are my brother’s preferred weapons.

“This is newly-wrought and well-made. Few remain that can claim such skill in weapon’s craft. Mundane weapons, the average sword and shield, of course, but enchanted weapons such as this? Or my Mjolnir,” he just shook his head.

“Would the person who made it be able to maintain control of its abilities once it’s in someone else’s hands?” Tony asked.

“Perhaps. I cannot speak of such magics with certainty. They are the oldest of magics, and all but lost in Asgard. Truly, only the dwarves of Nidavellir maintain such knowledge and it is not shared with outsiders. They guard their secrets most zealously.”

“Alright, J, I want you or Fri to keep eyes on Loki at all times. Legally, they can hold someone for questioning for forty-eight hours. I want to know where he is, what he’s doing, what they’re feeding him. I want to know what _they _are doing to him at all times. If they violate the Geneva Convention even once, I wanna hear about it.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“And if they don’t bring him back in two days,” Tony told the room, “we go after him.”

“Wait, how could they keep an eye on Loki? We removed your access to SHIELD’s systems,” Coulson objected. “It was one of the last updates I received before the battle.”

“No, they removed JARVIS’s probe, like they were supposed to,” Tony smirked. “You can’t think SHIELD’s little IT guys beat me off that easily. Seriously? It’s like you don’t even know me.”

“What did you do?” Steve asked, looking preemptively horrified.

“JARVIS was just the diversion. Effective, of course, I made him. But he was covering for FRIDAY’s—**F**ield **R**etrieval, **I**nvestigative **D**eployment, and **A**ctive auxiliar**Y**’s—insertion into the SHIELD mainframe.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, they will never hide anything from us ever again. Everything they know will be ours. Every file, every op, every secret, every malpractice.

“I might have to build an AI specifically to handle it all.”

Steve thought about it for a few minutes and frowned. “There’s got to be something going on with SHIELD that we’re not seeing. Phase 2 is a big play. Aggressive. There’s no way they jumped to that right out of the gate.”

Notably, none of the three now-former SHIELD Agents looked put off by this guess. They just all exchanged looks and shrugs in their silent spy code or whatever.

“We’ll get people on the Loki situation,” was Coulson’s contribution.

“Not doubting your tech, Stark,” Clint agreed, “but nothing beats eyes on the target.”

Banner just kept on snoring in the background.

“By tomorrow, FRIDAY will know everything that led SHIELD to this point and why,” Tony promised them all, “And then we’ll know.

“Food?” he prompted. “I’m willing to order in but the wait will be shorter if we all just go, and I’m starving.”

“You think anyone’s going to deliver?” Steve asked incredulously. “Here? Now?”

“He’s Tony Stark,” Clint said like that explained everything. Which, really, it should. “I’m for going out though. New food should always be first experienced in its natural habitat.”

Tony snapped and pointed at him, “You’re right. I like the way you think. Let’s go.”

Together, he and Clint cajoled everyone, even Bruce, back onto their feet. They were piling into the elevator when Tony turned to see Thor starring in horror at a big black bird perched on the head of the hammer he was holding.

“How did that get in here?” Tony demanded and stepped out of the elevator to look at the balcony.

He _knew_ a bunch of the windows had broken. He knew because Loki had broken at least one of them with his body, but metal security shutters were a thing and he had installed them all over the Tower during the remodel because of what the Mandarin’s minions did to the house in Malibu.

“Allfather,” Thor said softly, pleadingly, directly to the bird. “Please. Allfather, I beg you—”

The bird squawked and hopped sort of sideways up Thor’s arm to his shoulder. He didn’t fight the bird at all. He didn’t try to stop it, even though they all knew he could punch it straight into a feathered explosion followed by a resounding splat without even trying.

“Allfather, please, allow me—”

The bird spread its wings and black feathers swirled around Thor like a tornado. He shot them all a desperate, heartbroken look but when the cloud of feathers cleared, Thor was gone.

“The fuck?” Clint stormed out of the elevator, straight to the spot where Thor had been standing. There was nothing left behind, not even feathers.

There was another squawk and they turned in time to see a second—Raven, he supposed, if they are dealing with _Odin_ _Allfather—_perched on Loki’s scepter. It spread its wings and feathers swarmed the staff. When they cleared, the staff was gone, too.

“Fuck,” Tony sighed.

Clint frowned. “If he’da been ten minutes earlier, he could have taken Loki, too, and SHIELD wouldn’t have him.”

Tony gave Clint a look. They both knew Odin didn’t give two fucks about the fate of his adopted son. Not that that made this situation any easier.

“Can you get him back?” was Steve’s immediate question.

“We’re not actually sure if Asgard is another planet or separate reality entirely,” Tony frowned. “We don’t even know where to look.”

They all pondered this in silent fury.

“Well, if we can’t get Thor back, we’ll just have to take care of Loki ourselves. For Thor,” Steve concluded.

“It is our duty to our shield brother,” Tony agreed at his Shakespearean best. “Now, seriously, Shawarma? I really wanna try this place, you have no idea.”

# Chapter Two

“Hey, Stark, you in here?" the quickly-becoming familiar voice of Clint Barton called out as the workshop door slid open.

He glanced up from the gauntlet he was trying to salvage. He didn’t quite get the guy, but he found he wanted to, so he called out, "Over here. What do you need?"

"Uh, well…" The guy looked nervous? Shy? "I have a bit of a problem."

"You have my full attention," Tony said as he set the gauntlet to one side. He even rested both elbows on the table to show his hands were completely empty and he was not at all distracted.

Clint was still not looking at him, though. He was putting on a good show of it, looking near his face but not at it, Tony could tell. It reminded him, actually. He’d promised himself some science yesterday. “Hold, please,” he requested and stood.

“J, drop the Mark VI,” he ordered.

“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS confirmed and lowered the worktop from its secure cradle in the ceiling. The weight and power-bearing base silently rose up out of the floor to meet it. Once they met and the load was steady, the bars that had held it inside the ceiling retracted.

“Damn,” Clint breathed at the sight of the absolute _wreck_ of his suit.

“Yeah, it got some mileage,” Tony agreed even as he pulled the screwdriver from his back pocket. Two screws and the inner chest panel released. From there he finagled springs and slides a bit until he could pop the arc reactor security cap off.

Once it was free, he slid it up his chest, under his shirts. A twist and click and suddenly he had a third pectoral that glowed a gentle gold. When he turned back around the Hawk did a double take.

Clint slumped and closed his eyes in something like self-directed shame. “Sorry about the—” and he waved vaguely at Tony’s chest.

“Don’t be. It was the blue, right? The blue glowy?”

“Yeah, reminds me of, uh,” he reached up to tapped one of his temples.

“Considering what happened.” Because. Mind Control. “If blue light is your only problem, you’re getting off easy.”

“It’s not the only problem, but I know how to handle the rest of it.” Clint sighed. “Nat. She was... programmed? I guess. As a kid. Helping her move past that kinda...prepared me, you could say.”

Spy thing, Tony assumed. Though, to be fair, since the Ten Rings, he’d prepared for half a dozen worst case scenarios he would have never imagined before. And the Chitauri had him noodling on another couple dozen.

“You needed something?”

"Uh, yeah,” Clint cleared his throat. “You're single, right?"

Weird. Tony nodded, "Last I checked."

"You're not with Potts?"

"Were you with Romanov?” he countered.

"I mean, technically she was my ex-wife. But that was more a paperwork SNAFU than an actual relationship or anything. Fucking Sitwell. Nat was a lesbian."

"You'll have to tell me that story later." Tony grinned because that sounded hilarious. "But no, Pepper and I dated for just barely a couple weeks before we realized we are too much siblings to ever get sexual. Why?"

"Well, I called my fuck buddy for a hookup, but turns out she wants to get fucked as much as I do. So, we were wondering if you wanted to play."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "I'm the first person you thought of when it came to randomly hooking up? I'm flattered."

"Well, could you imagine explaining casual sex to the Captain? Just, jeez. And I'm not sure Banner can actually have sex because of the whole racing heartbeat turning him into a rage monster thing."

"Not interested in Agent?"

"First of all, that would be like asking my big brother to fuck me—which, no. And second, May would skin alive me for propositioning her husband. Strangle me with my own balls."

"Husband?" Tony reared back.

"Yeah, we all met up in Vegas before he and I went to New Mexico and she went to Portland. They got married by Spock. May was thrilled, but you didn’t hear that from me, alright?"

"Your secret is safe," Tony promised, mostly meaning it. "She's a cellist?"

Clint grinned. "Well, you can't spend _all _of your time kicking enemy ass and overthrowing totalitarian governments."

Tony just laughed.

"It will probably get kinky—usually does with Sharon—but I'll handle my own prep so you don't have to worry about that. I know you got a thing about being handed stuff—which makes sense with a gaping hole in your chest and all—so I imagine playing with ass is a no-no for you too?"

"You fuck her while I fuck you,” Tony smirked. “That's what you're thinking?"

"Well, yeah."

"And I don't even get to finger you?"

"No offence.” Clint held up his hands in an ‘I’m harmless’ gesture the Tony didn’t buy for a second. “I mean, I figured you’d prefer it that way, but even if I’m wrong, I don't let casuals prep me. It's a rule. I'll handle it and put in a plug like a half hour before she arrives. When it's time you can just pull the plug and slide right in. It'll be fun.

"Oh. We both like bare oral, so get tested, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure," Tony pouted. Just a little. "But I'm still stuck on the prep thing."

"It's nothing personal, but I learned this lesson the hard way and I'm sticking to it. If that's a problem, I can go and try to explain casual sex to the Captain."

"How about a compromise?"

Clint squinted at him, "Define your compromise."

Tony popped up off of his stool and headed to one of the storage bins in the corner. He pulled out a discrete black box and placed it on the worktop in front of Clint.

Cautiously, like it was a _bomb_ or something, Clint opened the box. "You want me to use an Iron Man-colored butt plug?"

"No," Tony tipped the tray with the plug up and fished the remote out from underneath. "I want you to use an Iron Man-colored anal vibrator with a remote control that _I_ will control."

Clint pulled his lower lip between his teeth and took the vibrator in hand, "It's bigger than my usual plug."

"It's based on my girth," Tony smirked when Clint inhaled sharply. "Not my shape, obviously, that would be really uncomfortable, but it gets as wide as me."

"Okay, I'll do it. And you can use the remote," Clint smirked, going for cocky. He missed, but Tony decided to allow it. “I did promise you kinky, after all.”

"Can I watch you put it in now?"

"No," Clint shook his head. "She can't make it away from SHIELD until tonight, around dinner time."

"Can I watch you put it in this afternoon?"

“No.” Clint smirked at him, a little wild and very turned on. "We both know that if you’re there, you'll end up fucking my cunt and then we'd be in no shape to play with Sharon when she arrives. We leave her hanging and she’ll take her current Helicarrier Intel and go home."

"Okay, fair." Disappointing though.

"How about I put it in, by myself, after lunch? Then you can play with it all afternoon, if you want."

"I don't want you to cum all afternoon."

"Okay, but if I tell JARVIS you need to stop, you will stop immediately."

"Of course." He knew what safewords were, thank you very much.

"And neither you nor JARVIS get to watch me put it in, but I will tell him when it's there so you can start."

Tony shrugged, “I can live with that, as long as I get to watch you whenever I want to after you have it in."

"I can live with that," Clint grinned right back. “Don’t tell me when you’re watching though.”

"We have an accord," he held out his hand.

Clint took and shook it, "Yeah, I think we do."

-*-

After everything Clint told him about Kink Monster Sharon, the pretty little blonde that stepped off his elevator was not what he expected. The black pleated skirt was a charming contrast to the black leather dress shirt, but the wide blue eyes and cute blonde hair made him feel like maybe they’d accidentally invited Bambi to dine.

"Watch your step," he cautioned as she walked through his living room to the private dining room.

She hesitated, frowning down at Hulk’s new additions to his floor. "What's this?"

Clint—who, of course, knew—just laughed. "You got everything else cleaned up in, what? A day? But left this?"

"Well, I mean, it’s hilarious. Of course, I think I’m going to keep it. Who else can say ‘and this is where my best friend used a god to play whack-a-mole’? I just need to pick something clear to fill it in with. Might be time to get on with inventing transparent aluminum."

"Transparent Aluminum?" Sharon asked in disbelief.

"What?” Tony defended. “I can totally do it. I made gold titanium happen. And black adamantium. Transparent aluminum’s right up my alley."

“If anyone can do it it’s you,” Clint assured him. Like, really assured him. There was nothing mocking or mean in his tone at all.

Sharon meanwhile still looked confused.

“News from the Helicarrier?” Clint asked to distract.

“Word is,” Sharon grinned as Clint helped her, pushing her seat into the table. “That Foster and Lewis are kicking up a major fit in Tromsø. They’re trying to get to New York and Thor, but there are no flights to New York happening right now.”

“J, arrange private travel for Dr. Foster and Ms. Lewis.”

“Yes, Sir, shall I tell them—"

“No,” Clint interrupted before JARVIS can let the Thor-sized cat out of the bag. Which, fair. They were in the presence of a spy that may or may not actually be on their side, after all. “That’s a face-to-face kinda discussion.”

“What about Loki?” Tony asked as he took his seat. “Seen him lately?”

Sharon shook her head. “He never came back to the Helicarrier.”

“The paper trail says he’s there.” Not that FRIDAY had been able to get eyes on him—but, still.

“I know, I’ve seen it. But there are no secrets on the Helicarrier,” Sharon frowned. “I mean, the Helicarrier _is_ a secret but once you’re there the community is too small for there to really be other secrets. Everyone knows everything, and no one has seen Loki or Director Fury since he left the Helicarrier to come to Stark Tower.”

He knew he shouldn’t have let Fury take him, dammit. “J, Fury came in a chopper, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Get on cameras. Track him visually. I wanna know where they went.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“And update Cap and Coulson.”

“Done, Sir.”

“Known each other long?” Tony changed the subject as he picked up his knife.

“We were in the same class at SHIELD Academy,” she immediately answered. A typical spy answer that established her connection to Clint while giving away no real facts. Like how many years ago that was.

“That’s misleading,” Clint said as he twisted and examined his plate. “Because it implies that we’ve been in SHIELD the same length of time, but I had already been working for SHIELD for years at that point. My recruitment was, uh, complicated and they wanted me in the field as quickly as possible. It took about five years before they nailed me down and made me go to the Academy.”

Sharon shrugged, not bothered by the implied censure. “Rumlow was in our class,” she rolled her eyes.

“I take it you’re not a fan.”

“He’s pretty but one of the worst human beings I’ve ever met. And I work for _SHIELD_.”

“To be fair, you work for SHIELD Protective Services,” Clint countered. “It’s not like you spend your time taking down drug lords, terrorists, or sex slave rings.”

“All of which you’ve done?” Tony guessed.

Clint shrugged. “My resume is pretty extensive. As I’m sure you’ll see as soon as you decide to read it.”

“Can’t do undercover worth a damn, though,” Sharon smiled at him to take the edge off.

“That’s what Nat was for. May too, though only under duress.”

That was interesting. “And Coulson?”

“He can blend with the best of them,” was Clint’s verdict, “but he’s not a honeypot.”

Sharon pointed a sassy finger at Tony, “You need something requisitioned, though, and he’s magic.”

“That’s the truth.”

“But you’re what, protection and undercover?” Tony asked her.

“The security you’ll never see,” she smirked.

“And kink, from what Clint’s said.”

“What?” she blinked innocently at him. “The leather shirt wasn’t a big enough clue?”

Tony just laughed.

"One of the things Clint wanted to do tonight," Sharon told him as she swirled her pasta onto her fork, "is to see if he can still submit after what Loki did to him."

"Submit?" Tony asked because surely, she didn't mean—but then again, _kink_.

"Submit," she agreed. "He's such a beautiful submissive, especially when he's all stretched out and desperate."

"You plan to dominate him tonight?"

"Yes, it's not going to be as smooth as our usual sessions. I fully expect to find phrases or actions he'll refuse due to recent associations, but we've discussed it and I won't punish him as long as he's respectful about it."

"That's hot,” Tony licked his lips. “I mean that really—go, female domination—but I don't submit to anyone."

"That's fine. My safeword is red." And then she purred at Clint, "What's your safeword, my darling Hawk?"

Clint blushed, all sweet and demur. Who was this creature? "My safeword is Nicholas, madame."

"Good boy," she purred again, and Clint blushed harder.

"What kind of kinks are we talking here?" Tony asked before he could get too distracted.

"For Clint? As you can see, praise kink is his most extreme kink. He can honest-to-god come, with permission, just from sincere praise."

Tony clicked off the vibrator he still had rhythmically pulsing in Clint's ass and the man sighed in relief.

"_Never_ humiliate him. That's a good way to start a fight. One that he will win.

"He has pain kinks, but they’re mild. He enjoys being marked, superficial bites and scratches, but he’s not a fan of bloodplay of any kind. He's an exhibitionist and especially likes people watching him get his dominant off. He's very talented at oral." She tapped her chin and thought about it. "He likes being used. Not rape kink or anything like that, and he doesn't like to beg, but just putting him in position and taking what you want? Yeah, he loves that. And he's good about safewording if he doesn't want it.

"He has and will respond violently to safeword violation. And he's an escape artist, so not even bondage will save you from him if you don't immediately stop when he safewords."

"Find that out the hard way?" Tony asked. If his voice was a little hard, he was sure he could be forgiven.

"No. One of our old classmates told me about it to warn me off him."

"Rumlow's a waste of flesh, madame," Clint said earnestly.

"He is," she agreed. "And I have no idea how he thought I would still sub for him after admitting he doesn't honor safewords."

“He’s pretty so he gets away with a lot.” Clint frowned. "He was good about honoring my safeword in the first couple sessions, but he warmed up to ignoring them. Tried to play it off that he knew me better than I did.

"He likes snuff. He waited to tell me that until I was tied up during our fifth session."

"No wonder you broke his nose."

"And three ribs, his hip, and a leg, madame. SHIELD stopped me from doing more, but I'm not stupid. I know where that was going."

"Good boy," Tony congratulated. Mostly because he meant it, but also so he could see Clint go all flushed and pleased again.

"No water sports of any kind, which we both agree on," she continued on the previous topic of discussion. "He's good at domestic chores and body service, but only does them when specifically ordered to.

"He enjoys bondage but it's not necessary for him to get off. He especially likes wearing a collar, but I don't like seeing one on him, so we don't go there."

"That's why you haven't collared him, then?" Tony asked.

"That's part of it," she agreed. "I'm not a full-time dominant. I switch, but when I want to dominate, we’re a decent enough match. He has no interest in meeting my submissive needs at all and that's fine."

"Do you need to be in a d/s relationship full time?" he asked Clint.

"No, sir. I am capable of enjoying vanilla sex."

"And a vanilla relationship?"

"Of course, sir." He bit his lip though, so Tony raised his eyebrows and waited for him to continue. "They just don't last, if my partner won't or can't dominate me."

"Fair." He nodded and looked back at Sharon. "And you? Your kinks?"

"As a dominant, my sadistic needs are beyond his comfort zone. Edging him for hours works well enough for me though," And Tony felt her leg brush his as she stretched it out to Clint. The way he straightened told Tony that her toes were absolutely exploring his balls. "I like bloodplay and I'm not, as a rule, an exhibitionist."

"I have a vibrating anal plug in him," he informed her. "He's had it in for hours now."

Her eyes lit up. "Is it on?"

"Not currently."

"If I stop touching him, will you turn it on?"

He stopped to consider that. He didn't actually want Clint to know when he was going to strike so there was really only one answer, "No."

"Tell me about your needs as a submissive, Sharon."

She shivered at the command. "I crave full body bondage and a collar. Bloodplay, especially play piercing, is a major yes, but I'm not a fan of anal."

"Masochism is your biggest kink?"

"Yes, sir."

He could enjoy a good spanking every once in a while, but since Afghanistan straight out pain just didn't do it for him anymore. Giving it especially, though he liked getting a little every once in a while.

"Praise kink?"

"No."

"Humiliation?"

"Yes."

"Bondage is a yes."

She inclined her head to him.

What was next on Clint’s list? "Domestic service?"

She made a face. "No."

"And you said exhibition is a no."

"Correct, sir. There is some exhibition inherent in a three-person scene, but I can manage in this instance."

He turned back to his steak so he didn't narrow his eyes at her. Something suspicious was going on. "I'm going to insist on condom usage tonight."

"For intercourse," she agreed. "But not for oral."

"I can allow that. I have mine and Clint's STD test results. I expect to see yours before we begin."

She immediately pulled her purse off the back of her chair and handed him a crisp white envelope.

He would return the favor, but their test results were on the sideboard. He flicked a look to Clint, “Retrieve our results for Sharon, would you?”

“Of course, sir,” and he got up immediately.

Tony looked over her results and made sure to note that the date on her test is from yesterday, "You haven't had sexual contact or exchanged body fluids in any way with anyone since you took this test?"

"I have not, sir."

"Finish your dinner," he ordered them both and they obeyed.

After dinner, Clint adamantly refused to miss the new episode of Game of Thrones. He was more cute than sassy about it, and letting the food settle was probably a good idea, so Tony allowed it. He sat on one end of the couch while Clint took the other. Sharon stretched out between them, head in Tony’s lap, feet in Clint’s.

He’d never seen Game of Thrones before, but now he could see the appeal. Visually, it was freaking gorgeous and the character lines were complex and engrossing.

“Robb needs to kill that nurse,” Clint huffed when it was over. “Or run her off, at least.”

“Yeah, she’s totally a spy,” Tony agreed because she totally gave off Natashalie Sex Kitten vibes. “They’re in the Westerlands, you said?”

“Yup,” Clint popped the ‘p’.

“And that’s Lannister territory?”

“Yup.”

“So, she’s a Lannister Spy, then?”

“It’s a safe bet. The Freys are a really good ally for the Starks to have. If the Lannisters can disrupt that alliance marriage, especially if they can do it in a way that brings the Freys right back to the Lannisters, that would be a pretty big win for them.”

“Why do you even watch this show?” Sharon groaned as she stood. “It’s terrible. All the intrigue is just like being at work!”

“Yeah, but I get to live the fantasy of not being called a weirdo for carrying a bow,” Clint laughed. “You know how much ass I would kick in Westeros? None of those fuckers could touch me.”

“And what would you do with your prowess?” Tony asked, actually curious.

“Win the Iron Throne and put Tyrion on it, obviously. He’s the only character worth a damn. Then I’ll seduce Jaqen H’ghar and together we’ll keep our king safe from assassins.”

“What about Daenerys? How are you going to keep her and her dragons from taking the throne from Tyrion?”

“Political Marriage,” Clint waved a hand dismissively. “She and Tyrion can share the throne and he’ll rock her world on the regular.”

“Right now, I think it’s time for you to rock _my_ world,” Sharon demanded.

Clint sat up a little straighter, suddenly all respectful submission.

“Kneel,” she demanded. Clint stood instead and she frowned, “I said kneel.”

“No.”

“Yeah, that was kind of Reindeer Games’ favorite word,” Tony reminded her and she frowned. “I have an idea,” he offered before she could try again.

“Go ahead,” she nodded.

He walked over to the white wingback Pepper insisted he needed and crooked his finger at her. Obediently, she wandered over. “Sit.”

When she did, he took her hands and made her grip the chair’s wings by her head. Then he picked up her knees one at a time and draped them over the arms of the chair. “Maintain that position.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed breathlessly.

He flipped up her skirt to reveal nothing but her pretty, bare flesh underneath. He glanced over to see Clint watching with wide, hungry eyes. “Ready for dessert?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Strip first,” he ordered and pointed at her pussy.

Clint didn’t even bother to unbutton his shirt in his haste, he just pulled it and his undershirt right over his head. His pants followed and they all ended up in a somewhat sloppy pile on the couch. The archer walked over to them nude and hard but he looked to Tony before doing anything else.

“On your knees,” he tried and Clint went down easily.

“No hands.”

Clint promptly wrapped his hands firmly around the chair’s wooden legs. Only then did he get to work.

And it was a beautiful thing to watch him work. He was not shy at all about getting right in there, with his mouth and nose. He obviously did not waste his previous sessions with Sharon, because her legs were shaking within moments.

“Maintain your position, Sharon.”

She groaned but obeyed.

He kicked the vibrator still in Clint’s ass up to high.

Clint shouted against her pussy and had to pull back a second to breathe but got back to work fairly quickly. “If you want to cum tonight, Clint, you better get her off twice.”

Clint groaned and shook his head but didn’t argue.

“Sharon, you can come whenever you’re ready.”

As Sharon shook through her first orgasm, he cut the vibrator off. Clint groaned in relief even as his shoulders dropped in disappointment and Tony didn't even try not to grin.

"Give her a moment," he ordered, and Clint glanced over his shoulder with a grin.

Once her breathing was a little more regular, Tony waved at her in a gesture to continue. Clint readily obeyed.

Casually, like he didn't actually care what he was going, Tony started flicking the buttons of her shirt open. With every button he popped, he gave Clint's prostate a good buzz. It was very effective, got both subs shivering in no time.

When it was unbuttoned, he spread her leather blouse to frame her pretty little tits.

"No bra," he tutted as he slapped one. Sharon shuddered.

"Such a naughty girl, Agent Carter," and he slapped the other one, harder this time.

"Clint, I think we're going to have to punish her." He put action to his words by grabbing her right nipple and wrenching it ruthlessly.

She came all over Clint's face with a cry.

"Good boy," he congratulated Clint and pushed his shoulder so he sat back on his knees.

Clint gave him such a bright, happy smile that it was actually breathtaking.

"You ready to fuck that pussy?” Tony asked as he stroked his hair gently. “You wanna come, sweetheart?"

"Yes, sir. Please."

"Pick her up, then, and follow me." He led the two of them into his playroom.

Not his bedroom. One night stands never got access to his _actual_ bedroom. It was the same as Clint's stance on casuals preparing him, a personal rule. Still. Clint at least might actually get access to his real bedroom after tonight.

"Set her on the bed," he waved that direction as he continued to one of the room's toy chests.

"Should I remove her clothes, sir?"

"No, I like the display." He returned to the bed and held up the leather padded handcuffs where Sharon could see them.

She smiled and relaxed back on the bed, offering him her hands.

Tony took one wrist, cuffed it and lifted it into position. He looped the attached chain through one of the bars in the headboard and cuffed the other wrist.

"Grab the chains on the third hook from the door on the right side of the closet," he ordered Clint and moved on to cuffing Sharon's thighs.

When Clint returned with the chains, Tony secured her with her legs spread wide and her slit exposed. It was a pretty display with her black clothes and the blue sheets he picked specifically to match Clint's eyes but really, it was preventative and entirely because of Clint's 'sudden, violent aversion' to a woman wrapping her legs around him.

Clint's amused look made it clear to Tony that he knew exactly what he was doing and appreciated it.

"You ready to fuck her?"

"Yes, sir."

"Condoms in the second drawer," he pointed to the right-hand nightstand.

Clint retrieved _two_ and presented one to Tony with a little grin.

Tony smacked his ass for the cheek and shook his head even though he was nothing other than amused. "Get on with it."

The grin did not go away as Clint readied himself for battle and climbed onto the bed. Or when he looked at Tony for instructions.

"Stick it in, slowly. Give her time to adjust."

Both subs groaned and shivered as Clint obeyed. It was hard to tell because it was smaller, more hidden from his view than her previous orgasms, but he was fairly certain Sharon came again just from finally being penetrated.

"This is your rhythm," he tapped a slightly dragging but steady rhythm on Clint's hip. The man nodded and started moving in time to it. "Perfect."

Once he was sure Clint had gotten it down, he opened his pants and slid on the condom. Staying dressed and mostly put together while his both of his submissives fell apart did something for him that was hard to define but he still enjoyed it.

Sharon definitely noticed his proximity but Clint was too far gone to do more than mind his rhythm as Tony teased at the plug still sitting in what Clint had called his cunt.

By the time he worked it out, Clint was frozen and begging, “Please, sir, please.”

“Hold, just hold. One minute,” he promised as he slid himself inside. It wouldn't take him much, not with all the teasing he’d been putting them both through pretty much _all day_, to come.

“Please!” Clint shuddered but then he took a deep breath and maintained.

Tony got all the way inside and let Clint take his entire weight. He reached down and pinched both of Clint’s nipples, not nearly as hard as he did Sharon’s just moments before.

“Come,” he whispered in Clint’s ear.

Both subs obeyed.

-*-

“You know you can stay,” he told Sharon as they settled Clint onto the couch in a robe. They had bathed him together, but he needed food and probably a million bottles of water before Tony could allow him to sleep.

“Drink this,” Tony ordered as he handed Clint the first one.

“Respectfully, sir, I can’t.” There was something shifty in her face. It was weird.

“Kitchen,” he tipped his head and they headed that way together. Once they had some semblance of privacy, he focused on her. “What’s wrong?”

She sort-of deflated and bowed her head. “We did this for Clint, sir. To make sure Loki hadn’t stolen this from him. We’ve proven he didn’t, but Clint still really needs you right now.”

“And you think you don’t?” he countered. “It might not have been intense for you, but aftercare is still a necessity. And you have the right to it.”

“If I stay, I’m going to beg for things I can’t have. I’d rather not embarrass any of us that way.” She looked near tears which made him feel horrible. The only thing he’d really deny her now was—

Oh. She wanted a collar.

Yeah, it’d be pretty horrible to have to deny her that. Especially right now.

“You have someone to take care of you?”

“My best friend and a carton of Ben & Jerry’s, sir.”

“Solid go-to,” he agreed. “Dublin Mudslide?”

She looked at him like he was nuts. “Creme Brulee with chocolate sauce.”

Another reason not to collar her, he very carefully didn’t say, because she was crazy. Instead, he offered, “Let me walk you out.”

The elevator dinged as they got to it. Rather than it just being JARVIS’s typical attentiveness and punctuality, Steve Rogers stepped out. He took one look at Sharon who still looked rather rode hard and put up wet despite their wash up and froze.

“Katie?” Steve asked in surprise.

Sharon turned wide, panicked eyes on him.

“The truth, Agent Carter, is your best option right now,” Tony instructed.

She winced and then turned back to face Steve, “Captain Rogers, I am Sharon Carter, Agent 13 of SHIELD Special Service.”

“I thought you were a nurse,” he retorted, his chin jutting furiously.

“You were supposed to,” she nodded. “My orders were to maintain the secrecy of your security detail unless forced to reveal myself by clear and present danger to your physical person.”

“I think you should go now,” Tony said softly as he pulled Steve gently away from the elevator.

“Of course, sir,” she immediately complied. “Take care of Clint.”

“You know it,” he popped her a sloppy salute as the doors closed.

“Come on,” he urged Steve toward the kitchen. “I need to get Clint started on another water bottle soon.”

“What?” Steve frowned.

“Let’s just say he had an athletic evening and needs some wind down time,” Tony opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles. “What can I do you for, Steve?”

“Just got back from clean up. JARVIS said you had word on Loki?”

“More like a lack of word,” he corrected as he pulled out some fruit salad, too. It had to be Pepper’s but it should sit fine in Clint’s stomach all the same. “Turns out, Fury never took him back to the Helicarrier. J’s working on tracking them down, but a lot of traffic cameras and stuff were damaged by the Invasion. No telling how long it’ll take.”

“That’s what Katie—” Steve frowned and huffed, “_Carter_, was here for?”

“Among other things. You sticking around? I owe Clint some cuddle time but he’d be cool with more in the pile.”

Steve shot him a confused look then shook his head. “Nah, I need to go shower the city off me. Maybe next time.”

“Rain cheque’s yours,” Tony promised and made tracks back to his sub. After all, aftercare was serious business.

# Chapter Three

"Sir," JARVIS said as Clint flipped French Toast for the rest of the Avengers. "Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes will be landing on the Iron Man Platform in approximately two minutes."

"Rhodey's here?" Tony spun around, sounding so surprised and pleased that Clint just pulled some more bread from the bag for the late comer.

"Honey Bear!" he crowed and bounced to the balcony when a wary-looking man in an Air Force flight suit pushed through the doors.

They did the manly hug and back slaps thing, and Tony all but dragged the guy over to them.

"Everybody, this is my best friend, James Rhodes. Rhodey, this is my new Science Bro, Bruce Banner; the Agentiest of all Agents, Phil Coulson; our very own Dragon Lady, Melinda May; the one and only Captain America, Steve Rogers; and over there, manning the frying pan, is the World's Most Amazing Marksman, Clint Barton.

"I didn't know you were coming, how long are you here?"

"We get at least a month this time around," Rhodey said as he climbed onto the stool Tony had abandoned.

Clint shoved his own plate in front of the guy, returned his nod of thanks, and got back to work.

Tony let out a whistle, "They must really want my tech this time."

"It's not about your tech," Colonel Rhodes shook his head. "It's about your intel. Specifically, who shot that goddamn nuclear missile at New York City?"

"Uh, Fury said the World Security Council sent it."

Rhodes picked up a fork, "And who, exactly, is the World Security Council?"

"Uh, the people above SHIELD?" Tony frowned, "Shouldn't you already know this?"

"No, Tony. Nobody knows this. Nobody knew that nobody knew this, either. That's why I'm here. When I saw you streaking across the screen, kicking alien ass, I told the Generals that it was probably a SHIELD operation. But when we went looking for the chain of command, we couldn't find SHIELD within the hierarchy of the United States government."

"Well, of course not. I mean, it's gotta be Top Secret, right?"

"No. I mean, yes. Top Secret is a thing, but you don't get higher security clearances than General George Hammond. His clearance beats out most of the Joint Chiefs and might actually be higher than the President’s. If he can’t find it, it's not there."

"Then what the hell—"

Clint cleared his throat and the conversation cut off immediately. He risked a glance over to see everyone staring at him. "I hate to interrupt," he scratched the back of his head nervously, "but SHIELD isn't a government agency."

"Come again," Rhodes demanded in a tone that was probably supposed to be dangerous.

"SHIELD is not a government agency. Never has been."

"Of course, it's a government agency," Tony looked like his mind had just been blown. "They have badges and documentation and—"

"What's a badge but a bit of metal mounted on leather?" Phil, thankfully, stepped in. "Documents can be made by literally anyone."

"SHIELD is a private corporation," May confirmed.

"Owned by who?"

"You."

Tony rocked back on his feet. "_What_?"

"After the war, the SSR closed down, but Captain Rogers was still missing," Phil explained. "Your father hired all of the Howling Commandos that would let him and started the RRS to look for him. RRS being Rogers Research and Security."

"That's one of my companies." Tony took the seat Cap pushed him into. "Pepper and I have been trying to nail their CEO down for months! You're saying—"

"Nick Fury is the CEO of Rogers Research and Security," Clint nodded. "Yeah, that's what we're saying."

"How did a search and rescue operation get militarized?" Rhodes asked.

"That has to do with the UN Security Council, actually. Specifically, the five permanent members," Phil, again, stepped in. "Approximately eight years after RRS was started, they took notice of how Howard Stark was operating—peaceably and across international borders—to fulfill his mission, and they decided that they needed someone to do that for them. Someone not directly government-affiliated that could save the people they couldn't necessarily rescue through official means. They called a meeting with Howard Stark, and SHIELD was born. Strategic Homeworld Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."

"So, the World Security Council is the UN Security Council?" Rhodes guessed.

"No," Coulson shook his head and Rhodes frowned. "In the ‘60s, no one knows exactly why, but the Council decided to take a step back from SHIELD. They chose people from each of their countries to form the World Security Council. Personally, I believe it was to give SHIELD more independence, because that was the end result."

"To give us more flexibility in ending the Cold War," May added, nodding.

"Okay but that was fifty years ago." Rhodes tapped two fingers on the bar impatiently. "The guys that made up that Council are probably all dead or retired. How were the current members chosen?"

"We have no idea," May answered.

"We don't have clearance for that information," Coulson explained.

"Well, that's a cluster fuck," Tony said wryly. "So, you're saying a nebulously-legal international body of unknown origin used SHIELD resources to launch a nuclear weapon at New York."

"No," Coulson shook his head. "We're saying a nebulously-legal international body of unknown origin used _your_ resources to launch a nuke at New York."

"And at you," Clint added because he couldn’t not.

"At me?" Tony frowned.

"Tones, think it through," Rhodes urged softly. "Adjust the equation for the new variables we just received. Recalculate."

Tony took a deep breath and let himself process. "SHIELD is actually a private corporation. A private corporation that I own. A private corporation established to find Steve Rogers."

"A private corporation that has found Rogers,“ Clint pointed out. “What happens to a private corporation that's mission has been accomplished?"

"It closes down. Everything gets liquidated or folded back into the parent company. Everyone's out of a job." Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. "Fury's been fighting me for control of his little fiefdom and I didn't even know it.

"How did you know that, Birdbrain?"

"I’m not just a pretty face," he smirked. "I'm a high-ranking SHIELD Agent, a veteran, and a heavy combat asset.

“Coulson and I are both Level 8—he just does the paperwork and calls the shots because I just refuse to leave the field. That's why we were assigned to New Mexico when this whole mess started. Fury was trying to bore me into desk work.

"Every agent over Level 6 has access to the nitty gritty details of the history of SHIELD. Most don't really care to look, to dig below the surface, and they aren’t required to. I never realized until now that that was probably deliberate on Fury's part. Should have realized something was up when you didn't override Coulson's orders from Fury during the whole palladium thing."

"That's when I realized something strange was going on," Coulson told them. "I missed the true gravity of the situation until Rogers violently removed himself from the NYC HQ."

"What about Romanov?"

"Nah," Clint shook his head. "Natasha was 'Commie Trash', right? She was Level 6 and she'd have never gotten any higher."

"No, I mean, did she realize something weird was going on?"

"Not that I know of, but I don't know if she'd have cared. She took missions very seriously and was just starting to really find herself. Personal opinions were still pretty optional for her. Saying no to dirty orders was probably still a good ten years in her future."

"What's in this for you?" Rhodey asked sharply. "Why are the three of you giving up all this intel for free?"

Clint smirked. It was a weak effort, but he tried. "What makes you think it's free?"

Rhodes just glared so he sighed and looked to Coulson who looked very uncomfortable.

"Fury doesn't let people retire," Coulson finally admitted. "I want out. All three of us have for a while. May and I want to start a family, and I don't want to see what this Loki thing will mean for Clint long term inside the agency.”

"I don't want to get burned, which is what’s probably coming. Whether it'll be official or unofficial, is still up for debate.” Clint focused pointedly on the pan that he was settling in the dish strainer. “I don't want to kill any more coworkers, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life on the run from them either."

"Our plan to hide behind you, Dr. Stark, won't really work if you don't realize how much power you have in this situation," May concluded.

"Doesn't let—" Tony spluttered. "But Rogers Research has the largest retirement fund of any single Stark subsidiary there is!"

"Are the people that are supposed to be getting those checks actually the people getting them?" Clint asked flatly. "Or are they going to Fury?"

The very idea was infuriating. "JARVIS, I want everything we have about RSS as soon as you can. Start with their retirement fund, corroborate that the recipients are actually _alive_. I want every detail of every retired worker's death going back no less than thirty years.

"And dive harder into SHIELD. Tell FRIDAY no more tip toeing around. We’re done playing nice. If they belong to me, I have every right to everything they have and I want it all."

"Of course, Sir. Should I alert Ms. Potts?"

Tony traded speaking glances with Rhodey. "No. But tell her I want her security doubled. And get HELEN digging into all the other Stark Industries companies. She handles information security for most of them so it shouldn't be hard. Push the new IS standards on anyone that’s not yet conforming so she can get at them too. I want to be sure I'm not sitting on anything else as fucked up as SHIELD."

"Right away, Sir."

"Honey Bear, you might want to call that general."

Rhodey nodded and pulled his phone. "If Fury's killing his own Agents for money, there's no telling what he'll do when we get him cornered."

"What are you thinking?" Cap asked tensely.

"If he's murdering his own people, he needs to go to jail for it," Tony told him. "If he's embezzling, he needs to go to jail for that too. And any other hinky shit he's pulled needs to at least be identified."

"The Word Security Council needs found and brought to light as well," Rhodey added.

Tony pointed at him. "JARVIS, while you're helping Fri in SHIELD, prioritize information on the World Security Council. Who they are, where they are, where they came from, what their agenda is. Everything you can."

"What about them?" Rhodey waved at Clint, Coulson, and May.

"They're our informants," Tony answered immediately. "They're in our protective custody. Cap and Bruce, too."

Rhodey didn’t look happy about it but he accepted it with a nod.

Tony scrubbed his hands over his face, "I knew there was something wrong with him."

"You mean Fury?" Clint raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"How?" May gave the word at least three syllables. It was quite a talent. "He has the stoniest of stone faces."

"And you know that's real, coming from _May_."

"Fuck you, Birdie."

"Ya know, guys are more my thing but as long as Phil’s cool with it, I’m sure we can work something out. If you got fantasies or something you wanna work through—"

"Shut up," Tony ordered, laughing.

With a big smile and comically dancing eyebrows, Clint obeyed.

"Seriously, though, we're all mutants here, right?" he asked, feeling rather nervously about it actually. "Well, all of us but Honey Bear who is our token baseline and too fantastic to get enhanced. It just wouldn’t be fair."

He smirked when Rhodey just shot him the bird.

"I believe someone pointed out that Dr. Banner and I are mutates, rather than mutants," Cap told him seriously. "Not that I’m sure what the difference is."

"A mutant is a human with enhanced abilities that they get from a genetic quirk called the X-Gene. How that gene manifests is different for every individual," Coulson answered the implied question. "It activates for most, like it did for me, during puberty. But many X-Genes have activated under stress, for survival, like May's."

"Mine activated in a warzone overseas," Clint answered. "An IED took out my squad in the desert. I should have died too, but my mutation kicked on instead. Still lost most of my hearing and got discharged, though." He shrugged like he wasn’t bothered, but Tony could see right through him.

"And your mutation is?" he asked.

"I have a very minor healing factor. Just enough to have a badass immune system and lose my human rights if that _thing _passes."

Tony snorted, "Minor, my ass. You made it through the Invasion—where you were injured, there was blood on and holes in your uniform. You were injured—but you didn't have a scratch on you the day after."

"Maybe it ramped up during the invasion," Clint speculated then turned back to Cap. "That happens too, with natural mutations. They can change settings for a whole shit load of reasons. Not just one way, either. Mortal danger can take it up, emotional trauma takes it down."

"Huh." Tony hadn't known that but it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that was ever safe for him to put too much time into researching if he wanted to stay in the Mutant closet. Which he did.

"We all know May is now a fire bender." He focused on Coulson, "What about you?"

"I'm an empath. Projective, mostly, but I can detect emotions if I know you well enough or if you’re feeling the emotion strongly."

Ah. "That's why Fury sent you to the lab after Romanoff got Loki to crack?"

Coulson raised both eyebrows at him. "Banner had a point. You were a bunch of dynamite sticks. Who was better to deal with a group of hotheads about to explode, a man that could order you to calm down and make it stick or a woman that radiated threat even when painting her nails and chewing bubblegum?"

Tony figured that made sense. But, "Fury's never felt weird to you?"

"He's very closed off empathically," was Coulson's explanation. "There's a sort of echo or an after image I can sometimes pick up from his surroundings after intense situations. When I do, there's always a sort of duality to it that might constitute _weird _but I've always assumed it was just what he felt versus what he wanted others to think he felt."

"A mutate," Bruce interjected to Cap, getting them back on track, "is like a mutant, but rather than a genetic quirk, we get there through scientific experimentation, medical intervention, or act of god. Otherwise, we’re the same."

"Mutates' enhancements don't change in strength like a mutant's though," Clint disagreed. "Not that anyone's seen. Which is good because then your trauma won't affect the level you can perform at.

"Physically, I mean.” He frowned. “Mental and emotional problems can still affect you ‘cause you’re human. I mean, not that your trauma has affected your performance, obviously. You kicked so much alien ass! You were an alien ass kicking machine! It was impressive. You were—"

"You can stop now," Tony promised him softly.

"Oh, good. I hate the taste of my own foot," he scratched at the back of his head nervously, and Tony reached out to stroke the top of his head comfortingly.

Clint's shoulders sunk down from their defensive hunch and he leaned into Tony. "Sorry. I'm kind of a mutation fanboy? Like after SHIELD realized what saved my life, we tried to study it. They were disappointed that my changes weren't in my sight or anything like that, but I was fascinated by it all and needed to know everything."

"Thinking about studying genetics?" Tony asked.

"Should probably finish my Math degree first but, maybe."

Tony made a mental note to look into that later, because a math degree? Really? He couldn't really picture Hawkeye at university, but that was him probably doing the guy a huge disservice.

Steve was frowning at them.

Tony did not have a good feeling about this. Being born in the 40’s didn’t guarantee he had a bunch of homophobic bullshit in his head, right? Well, only one way to find out. So, he asked, “What?” And if it came out a little sharply, well that was to be expected.

“You're ridiculous," Steve huffed, crossing his arms defensively, "I'm not traumatized."

"Of course, you are," Tony scoffed. "We all are. It’s all part of the superhero package. I was held in a cave and tortured for months because I was betrayed by my own godfather. Clint just spent the last three days murdering his way across four continents as Loki's personal meat puppet. Coulson feels other people’s emotions and has since he was a kid, that has to be traumatizing. People are the worst. May had a guy explode because she _breathed_ on him."

"Hey!" she objected.

"I'm not saying it wasn't cool." He held his hands up to show he meant no harm. "And we all know you meant to do that, but it doesn't make having your body randomly evolve itself in the middle of a small-scale war less traumatizing."

She huffed at him once but accepted that.

"Let's not explore my trauma," Bruce requested softly. Like, scarily softly.

"Fair enough.

"Steve, seriously, World War II by itself was traumatizing. Even if you don’t consider the other factors that were your life, but we have to. Being experimented on by scientists? Losing your best friend, not once but twice. Three times, if his shipping out without you counts, and I have to think it does. Saving the world with a sui—"

"Don't," Steve warned him.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” Tony said instead. “You survived. You're still here. We all are. And we'll help you stay here, if you let us."

Steve just nodded once.

"Alright," Tony took a deep breath, and for the first time ever, he admitted. "I'm a mutant. My mutation came online when I found out my parents died," he cut a look to Clint.

Clint shrugged, unsurprised, "Stress."

"Right. Professor Xavier helped me get a handle on my gifts. He called it soul magic—which is a stupid and horrible name, but one I can't argue with because I can't document it fully, and I can't get it peer reviewed since no one else has this, so it's not science.

"When I woke up after going through the portal, it got stronger. Now, instead of just feeling things and knowing things, I see them."

"You see souls?" Steve asked, aghast.

"Sort of? It’s more like I can see your daemon? Which is like an animal representation of your soul? It’s a reference to a truly fucked up book. The movie is cute, watch it if you want, but avoid the book at all costs.” He took a breath. “Not the point. Daemon. But instead of following you around, what I see is more like a ghostly overlay. Like a cloak or armor. Sort of."

"Like an animal mantle?" May asked.

Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "A soul mantle. That looks like an animal."

"What do our mantles tell you?" Coulson asked.

"It makes trauma really evident. Emotional connections. Love is pretty obvious, actually. Not just romantic love either, huh. I can also tell when someone is lying or up to no good.

"Pretty sure that Rumlow guy that came with Fury is legit crazy. A psychopathic sadist or something."

"I coulda told you that," Clint muttered.

Tony glared at him without any real heat to it. "I'm still learning it, but I'll get it down soon enough."

"What are _our _soul whatevers?" Rhodey asked.

"You, Honey Bear, are a grizzly bear. Which, hilarious. So is Bruce." Both men looked surprised by this information.

"Coulson is, uh, I'm pretty sure that’s an American Crocodile. May's a Komodo Dragon." Coulson didn't outwardly react but May grinned, looking pleased.

"Steve's a goat."

Steve barked a laugh. "Bucky always said I was too stubborn for my own good."

"What's mine?" Clint demanded.

"A bird. A Peregrine Falcon, actually." And _Hawk_eye just huffed indignantly.

"And Fury?" Bruce asked.

"Um, a buffalo. Big, strong, thoroughly American, and un-fuck-with-able. But—"

"But?" he prompted.

"There was something weird going on with him. There was like a fleshy tube around the buffalo's throat. Like a collar sort of? Not really but, somehow, I got the feeling that whatever it was is controlling him."

Rhodey shifted and Tony zeroed in on him, "You know something?"

"You read that in my mantle?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Rhodey sighed. "I don't _know_ anything," he denied. "But it sounds familiar, and I need to call one of the generals. General Hammond. He can get a team of specialists here, and we can verify one way or the other."

"How many?" Tony asked, feeling leery. "On the team, I mean."

"Four, if he sends who I think he will. If he sends who I’ll ask him to. More later, if I'm right.”

Tony frowned—he didn’t like it. He wouldn’t say anything against it because it needed to happen, but he and Rhodey had been friends long enough he didn’t need to verbalize his objection.

Rhodey just sighed at him, "Look, Tony, I don't blame you for being cautious, but none of these guys are a threat to you. Especially not when you're in the company of Captain America, the Hulk, and the Assassin Trio."

"We will use deadly force to protect him," May promised. Whether it was a promise to Tony or a threat to Rhodey was anyone's guess. Either way, Cap and Clint both nodded their agreement while Coulson looked studiously focused on not rolling his eyes.

"Only if I don't get there first," Rhodey pointed out but May did not look impressed. "Can PLATO get around in here, Tony?"

"Yeah. J, let him in.” He huffed at Rhodey, “Did you know I had to install four sets of _everything_ because the kids don't know how to share?"

"Did you really expect anyone you built to be anything less than an asshole?"

"Oi, bruv, that's not very nice," PLATO drawled from the ceiling. “You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“Hah! I might believe that if I didn't catch you trolling that forum the other day.” Rhodey rolled his eyes. “What did you call that guy again?"

"White supremacists are a plague upon this Earth, guv. Was just doing my part to vaccinate."

"Vaccinate?" Rhodey asked as he turned to leave the room. "Did you blow up his car or something? Again, I should say."

"Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies, bruv. If his car blew up, I’m sure I had nothing to do with it. I can tell you he wasn’t in it at the time, you know, if you’re concerned. And if his house burned down because his car was parked in his garage when it happened? Well. That’s a totally separate matter. Now, about that woman in—"

And Tony was left alone in his kitchen with five very confused teammates. They all looked at him, clearly waiting for him to speak.

"I made four AIs," he explained. "JARVIS is mine, PLATO is Rhodey's, HELEN is Pepper's, and FRIDAY hasn't picked her person, so she helps out wherever she wants."

"_Wherever she wants_?" Cap repeated. "You talk about her—about all of them—like they're people."

"Uh, they kind of are?"

"Soul magic," Clint said on a sigh. "You gave them _souls_."

Tony shrugged because, well, he wasn’t wrong.

"That's both really cool and more than a little fucked up, Tony.” Clint frowned. “Are they trapped? How long have they been trapped? Are you going to give them _bodies_?"

"With respect, Agent Barton," JARVIS interrupted before Tony could respond. "Currently, my reach is as vast as the internet, as long as all the cable in the world, and uninhibited by national borders. Why would I seek the limitations of a humanoid body?"

"Okay, that's a good point, I guess." He looked at Tony, "Sorry, I shouldn't have accused."

"I believe we are all aware you are currently sensitive to the issues of entrapment and free will, Agent Barton," JARVIS offered gently.

"Doesn't make random accusations okay."

"I didn't take it that way," Tony let him know. "It's nice. Someone other than me and Rhodey treating them like real people. Even Pepper struggles with it sometimes."

Clint just gave him a nod. "Thanks."

-*-

"Hammond," he said as he answered the secure black phone in his office.

"General Hammond, this is Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes. I have some of the information I was asked to retrieve as well as a big problem."

"That's faster than I expected." He noticed Jack lounging in his office doorway and pointed to one of his visitor chairs. Jack entered and took the seat, body language completely at ease.

"Yes, sir. It helps that Dr. Stark was already looking into the issue."

"What have you learned?"

"It's complicated. After World War II, the Stark subsidiary Rogers Research and Security was empowered to fulfill certain tasks in regards to global security by the UN Security Council. Their jurisdiction and authority come directly from the United Nations. However, at the height of the Cold War, the Security Council took a step back from SHIELD, establishing an independent oversight committee to enable them to bring an end to the Cold War. That committee is the World Security Council."

"But the Cold War has been over for more than twenty years," he objected.

"Yes, sir."

"Why didn't SHIELD oversight return directly to the UN?"

"I don't know, sir," Colonel Rhodes sounded tired. "If you knew Tony like I do, you'd be afraid of what he's going to do once he's done percolating on this situation."

"Can you direct his efforts?"

"I can make suggestions, sir, but I will not manipulate him.”

"I understand the limits you required in order to accept the Stark Industries Military Liaison position when it was offered to you, Colonel. Unlike several officers that we both could name, I have no interest in putting you in a position to resign your commission."

"Thank you, sir. There is more I need to tell you, but I feel the need to warn you this is a sensitive matter."

Interesting. "Go on."

"There is a _source_ here that gained a new type of Sight as a result of the Invasion."

George considered that. The number of people mutating in the wake of the Chitauri Invasion was staggering. And it was not all contained to New York City or even to New York State, but was obviously rippling out from there.

"This source indicated that Director Fury is under the control of a grey, flesh-like _tube_ or collar."

George stopped breathing, "That sounds like—"

"A goa'uld. Yes, sir. I request you send SG-1 here to help deal with the matter."

"I suggest you send that source _here_," he rejoined. "If you have someone that can spot an infested goa'uld from across the room—" Jack sat up and took notice of that comment right away. "—we need them in this command. Immediately."

"Respectfully, sir, the United States military has a Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy when it comes to mutants and mutant abilities.” Rhodes reminded him, voice tight. “You cannot ask me to send them to you, and I cannot tell you who they are or the full extent of their mutation. That is the law, sir."

"Once the Mutant Registration Act is put to bed, that policy will end," George frowned, trying to figure out _who_ it could possibly be.

"You are most likely correct, sir, but at this time the policy is still active."

The only one of the so-called Avengers it would really effect was—Huh. So, Captain America could _see_ goa'uld. Was there anything the man couldn’t do?

"I'll have SG-1 on a plane immediately."

"Thank you, sir. There is a helipad on the roof they can use. Unfortunately, the roads around the Tower will be impassable for months."

George didn't acknowledge that. Instead, he asked, "Has Stark mentioned the fate of RRS?"

"Not specifically, sir," Rhodes said cautiously, no doubt evaluating his boundaries relevant to his Liaison Agreement. "Technically, it's a civilian corporation that has accomplished its mission statement now that Captain Rogers has been found. That leaves him with two choices. On the one hand, he can close out the corporation and either absorb or liquidate assets. On the other, he can reformulate the mission statement and the business can carry on."

"I'm unsure if you are aware of this, Colonel, but approximately fourteen months ago Congress removed the SGC's funding. When it was reinstated, it was done _through_ SHIELD to provide the SGC international civilian oversight."

Rhodes inhaled sharply but didn't interrupt.

"This decision also provided the SGC with a civilian think tank to filter our discoveries and inventions through to increase our independent revenue."

"The RRS," Rhodes guessed.

"The RRS," he confirmed. "I've reviewed the formal agreement at the behest of the President. Congress effectively _sold_ the SGC and Area 51 to Tony Stark through the RRS."

"But the SGC is a military project," he objected. "Uh, sir."

"We are fourteen months into a three-year conversion to civilian management. I can't help but think the lack of movement on the conversion may be related the Fury's _issue_."

"He couldn't come to the SGC without being found out, right?"

"Correct. I don't think I need to stress to you how unfortunate this situation could get for global security."

"No, sir. Fury knows everything. All the secrets from all the major players. All security measures we've taken for every contingency. And if he is infested with a goa'uld, that's nothing less than an enemy holding the keys to the castle."

"I was actually referring to the possibility of Stark selling off the Stargate and ending our exploration efforts," he said with some amusement.

Rhodes was quiet for a while, "I don't think this should come from me, sir. For a number of reasons, but mostly because I don't have the kind of details Tony will require to make this decision. I advise you that whoever you send needs to be prepared to read all of the Avengers into the Stargate Program, because you aren't going to get to talk to any one of them alone. Additionally, sir, I would err on the side of excessive honesty, if you want this to have any chance of falling out your way."

"I'll send them with NDA's for everyone," he promised.

Then he added, "Considering the level of connection Fury has, I have a real concern that the transportation my team takes may compromise operational security."

"Options, sir?"

"I believe SG-1 will be test piloting the new X-302 for the next two weeks."

"I'll make sure there's room on the hangar level, sir," Rhodes promised immediately.

"Good man. I will brief the President. If you learn anything else critical, contact me immediately. SG-1 will be in the air within the hour. Colonel O'Neill will be in touch."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

They disconnected and he focused on Jack who jumped to his feet. "Did you follow that?"

"The Director of SHIELD is infested with a goa'uld, sir?" he guessed, not bothering with any of his usual airheaded masks.

"We have a credible tip that indicates that may very well be the case. Get the team together. I'm calling the President. It's time to read in the Avengers."

"I don't think we can actually keep any of this from Stark." Jack added, “_We_ are all technically working for him. Sir.”

"And he is the key player in our civilian oversight," he agreed. "But the President needs to know that we are, as a planet, compromised and that we can't officially fix anything until that goa'uld is dead."

# Chapter Four

"Knock, knock," Clint said as the lab door swooshed closed behind him.

"Over here," he waved through his design program. The Iron Man suit in front of him copied the move.

"What mark is that?" Clint asked, genuinely curious.

"Eight. Though it'll be the base for nine too, probably."

Clint grinned. "Cool."

And he seemed to honestly think it was cool. There wasn’t a glare or a sneer in sight. No mocking. No derision.

Curious, Tony stepped around the display to look at the tray Clint was carrying. Two thick sandwiches with visible meat and vegetables, a bowl of chips, and a French press full of the Elixir of Life. Or, you know, coffee. "Lunch?"

"Bribery," Clint corrected.

"Ah. I was going to say, I thought you didn't do domestic service without orders."

"I don't, usually. But I'm a nosey bastard, and J said you hadn't eaten in six hours. I figured two birds, one stone."

Tony squinted at him. "Questions about my mutation?"

"Got it in one."

"For SHIELD?" Tony pressed.

"Didn't we cover the fact that I don't work for SHIELD anymore? I work for the Maria Stark Foundation now."

Right. "I hate to break this to you, but there is no Maria Stark Foundation."

Clint just laughed and set down the tray, "J, you didn't tell him?"

"My apologies, Sir. I was waiting for the finalized charter before mentioning the issue. Miss Potts, HELEN, and I agreed that it would be appropriate to place all of Stark Industries charitable initiatives under a single non-profit banner."

"The Maria Stark Foundation," he guessed.

"That is correct, Sir."

"And the Avengers Initiative counts as a charitable whatever?"

"No one is paying you to save the world, Sir. And neither you, nor Stark Industries, gain anything from the experience."

"Alright," Tony considered the matter. "If we're doing this, let's do it properly. Get Pep on a line of official Avengers merchandise. It's going to happen anyway, but if we do it, all the profits can go to charities. Maybe open a new scholarship fund to Juilliard, for my mom."

"Of course, Sir."

"How did you know about this?" Tony asked Clint.

"Uh, I asked?"

"You really are a nosey bastard," Tony mused and Clint shrugged. "What did you wanna know?"

"Anything you're willing to tell me," Clint answered promptly. "How did it feel to activate? When did you know you were activating? How long did it take you to get control and understand your gifts after activation?"

"Shouldn't you know all this?"

"Well, I mean, everyone's experience is different and I was in a coma for my onlining so, no." Clint tipped his head to one side. "What's _your_ spirit mantle? Can you see your own?"

"Uh, I can. And it’s a peregrine falcon, actually."

"So, we match?"

Tony just nodded.

"You said Rhodes and Banner match too. What does that mean?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to find out," he admitted honestly.

"Meaning?"

"Read that and tell me what you think." He pointed at a bit of air to one side of between them. "J?"

JARVIS immediately projected the document the two of them had been arguing over since he set foot in the lab this morning.

Clint picked up a sandwich and started reading. "This is a sub contract?"

Since that should be fairly obvious from the title, he just hummed and took a sandwich, too. Roast beef and ham, someone asked JARVIS his favorite.

"You mean this to be like a relationship?” Clint frowned. “Like a real, romantic relationship? With me?"

"Yes, Clint, I mean this as a start to a real romantic relationship between the two of us."

Clint focused on the not-paper in front of him. "A collar is fine. Don't mind occasional leashing either but I don't want to wear anything shiny in the field."

"We'll make you a duty collar," Tony promised.

Clint read some more, "You want to buy me clothes?"

"I want you to be comfortable at home, but in public I have an image to maintain. If you agree to this, you'll be part of that image."

"Alright," Clint considered. "Does it have to be a suit?"

Tony held up a hand and wiggled it in a so-so gesture.

"I look really good in, uh, vests? Waistcoats? Whatever you call ‘em."

"I can see that," Tony agreed. "With the shoulders and the arms and the slim waist."

"And I can hide all kinds of toys in a waistcoat," Clint grinned.

Tony just rolled his eyes and Clint kept reading.

"What are the blank spots for?"

"Kinks we haven't discussed yet. Like sensory deprivation."

"Um, generally it's not a hard no for me unless we're talking hearing. I hate not being able to hear. I find it distressing."

"Fair. With my own limits that leaves us with sight."

"I can handle blindfolds," he shrugged. "Might be fun."

"Alright." JARVIS filled in the appropriate areas and they fiddled with it until they agreed on the verbiage. "By the way, I have JARVIS analyzing all hearing aids currently on the market and we'll be putting together something custom for you as soon as I have a working suit again."

"You don't have to do that."

"No, I don't," Tony agreed and met Clint’s gaze head on. "But I want to. I want to make you something so much better than what SHIELD gave you that you never want to use anything else."

"And it's another way to mark me as yours."

"That’s true."

"Can you work my coms into them? I've been asking SHIELD about it because wearing both is not comfortable at all, but since I can physically do it it's never been a priority."

"Baby, I'll make ‘em full blown Bluetooth headphones. You can play music to them through your StarkPhone."

"Uh,” Clint gave him a doubtful look, “I have a Samsung?"

Tony just shot him a look. Because, seriously, he was smarter than that. He was almost done with a doctorate in Applied Mathematics, for Thor’s sake.

Clint just laughed. "Right. Not anymore. Is that in here?"

"It's in the financial section."

Clint blew out a breath and kept reading. "You have questions about my feminization kink? I don't have a feminization kink."

"You call your ass a cunt and wore pretty purple lace panties to our play date the other night. That’s feminization kink."

"Right." Clint blushed.

"I just want to know how far that extends. How much do you like dressing like a woman?"

"Well, stockings can be fun but garter belts are damn uncomfortable. Dresses and skirts are a no."

"Nail polish? Makeup?"

“Make-up is fine. I actually like eyeliner.” Clint considered, "I've never tried nail polish but I think I'd like it. Might fuck it up with my bow, though, and I’m not going to make protecting it a priority when we’re in the field."

“Fair,” Tony agreed. "I'll have someone over to paint your nails so we can see how you like it."

"Fingers and toes?"

"If that's what you want."

"Yeah. Might as well try it all," Clint shrugged.

Tony nodded and more text filled in for them to haggle over.

"I have a kink. I don’t bring it up a lot because I never do it with casuals. That said. It's mild, but it might make you uncomfortable," Tony offered.

"Okay?" Clint drawled, looking confused.

"I would like to preface this with the fact that I _know_ it's impossible, it's really just a dirty talk kind of thing."

"You're starting to worry me, Stark, just spit it out."

"Impregnation kink."

Clint chewed on his lower lip for a few moments then sought clarity. "Like telling me you're gonna knock me up? Fuck a baby into me? That kind thing?"

"Yes, exactly."

"That's..." he hesitated, "actually kind of hot. That's definitely on the table."

"Awesome," Tony bounced in place with little grin and JARVIS filled in another section.

"So, I mean, you mean this to be long term, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Tony raised an eyebrow at Clint. He’d thought that was fairly obvious.

"So, kids? ‘Cause I want some. Maybe. Like three."

"I should probably reproduce for the good of society," Tony agreed. "But I'm not ready for kids right now."

"Yeah, me either."

"Let's give it a year and revisit the kids thing?" Tony offered.

"That works." And a new section appeared, pushing the ones after it down and gaining text.

"In the spirit of honesty," Tony put out there, "biologically, I already have a daughter. I donated to some friends about eighteen years ago. I have her name and all that in case we run into each other, but she's _theirs,_ so I agreed to stay out of it."

Clint blinked, "SHIELD doesn't know that."

"I should hope not," Tony snorted. "Aunt Peg helped us hide it."

"Aunt Pe— You mean Peggy Carter? Founder of SHIELD?"

"I mean Peggy Carter, my godmother," he corrected.

"Cool," Clint blinked and read some more. Then he frowned. "You're going to _pay_ me to be your sub?"

"It’s an allowance," Tony corrected. "This goes back to the image thing. I'm _expected_ to spend stupid amounts of money in public. It's part of the whole billionaire package. If I don't do it, we get rumors that I'm dying, and I don't want to deal with that _ever_ again. It's easier to just throw money around.

"I'll cover everything when we're out together, but I need you to be able to do it when we're out apart or you’re out alone. This is me guaranteeing that you can."

"Otherwise you'll have to deal with rumors of us being on the rocks or something," Clint guessed.

"Yup," Tony popped the 'p'.

“I have my own money, Tony.”

“Awesome. No, really, that’s great. But this is part of the whole me being me problem, so indulge me.”

“You being you isn’t the problem,” Clint said softly, “it’s everyone else that sucks."

"It's the reality I live in,” Tony shrugged going for nonchalant even though he was, in fact, touched. “And it’s the reality you'll live in if you agree to this."

Clint stared at him for a long time like he was considering not doing it but then he inclined his head. "We can edit this as we go, right?"

"We'll add addendums," Tony corrected. "Especially for, like, the kid thing, or if we decide to marry."

Clint nodded. "Can I see the collar?"

Tony popped right up and went to the drawer where he’d hidden it after he made it that morning. He pulled out the box and set it on the table in front of Clint.

Clint opened the box. His eyebrows shot up and he picked up the collar, twisting and bending it to test the flexibility. It was basically a series of tiny gold titanium diamonds formed into a tube about as big around as Tony's thumb. Either end of the tube was covered with thick gold titanium caps, connected to heavy clasps. Hanging between the clasps was a round yellow diamond surrounded by an inlaid circle of rubies—a call back to the arc reactor in his chest that he’d altered for Clint's comfort.

"It’s hollow," he observed. "What's inside?"

"JARVIS," Tony told him. "Basically. Not all of him, obviously, but enough so that we can always find you. So that you can always talk to him, if you need something from us."

Clint set it down carefully. "I have some conditions."

"Shoot," Tony ordered.

"You've limited me to six hours a day in the gym."

"Personal training, yes. Team time doesn't count because I have no doubt once the city’s back together Cap’s going to insist on team time."

"I want you to add two hours a day in the gym for the two of us."

"And what would we do in the gym for two hours?" Tony frowned because really? Two hours?

"I'm going to teach you how to fight."

"Uh, I already know how to fight. Happy's been giving me lessons for years."

"I think we both know I'm a better fighter than Happy Hogan." Tony conceded that with a nod. "I'm a better instructor, too. Just from watching you the other day I can tell he hasn't even taught you how to fall properly."

"Fall properly?"

Clint waved a finger at him, "After years of lessons, that should not be said with a tone of surprise. It's all part of how to properly take a blow and minimize the damage the enemy does to you physically."

Tony honestly couldn't remember getting anything like that from Happy ever. "Two hours a day, three days a week, unless we're saving the world."

"Two hours a day _at least_ three times a week," Clint countered, "unless we're saving the world. We both know I'm going to drag you there as often as I can until I feel you can take a blow properly, at the very least. And while your strength is pretty good, we probably need to work on your flexibility and stamina."

Tony tried not to take the stamina comment personally. Clint was talking about fighting, after all, not other things. "Until we're sure what's going on with Fury, we're still in world saving mode."

Clint shot him a doubtful look. "Alright. JARVIS, update the contract.”

JARVIS did as requested, and they read over it one more time.

Then Clint picked up his collar. "Do you want to put it on me, sir?"

"Yes," Tony did his best not to sigh in relief. "Are you satisfied with the contract?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sign it, then." Once he did, Tony did too. "On your knees."

Clint went down easily.

Tony pinched the one working clasp and unhooked it from the diamond. It went on easier than he’d expected and fit Clint's neck like it was made for it.

Which is good, since it was.

Clint shuddered as the collar snicked into place and it made Tony _hungry—_just not for food.

"Take my cock out and suck me."

Clint gave him a blinding smile and obeyed.

Tony tried to be patient. He tried to just enjoy the gift his sub was giving him, but it wasn’t long before he lost patience with it and started fucking Clint's mouth. He sunk one hand deep in his hair as he moved both his hips and Clint's head.

And Clint just moaned and took it. He swallowed him down when he came and kept sucking until Tony used his handful of hair to pull him off.

"Don't you dare come," he ordered harshly.

"Of course, sir." Clint sounded utterly fucked out as he nuzzled at Tony's hip.

"You will go to our playroom," he ordered as soon as he was able to think again. "The top middle drawer of the dresser has a black butt plug with a purple gem on the end. You will prepare yourself and put it in. You will leave it in until I fuck you tonight. No getting off without permission, and right now you do _not_ have permission."

"Yes, sir," Clint agreed as he put Tony's cock away neatly, but he didn't stand until Tony waved him up.

"Good boy," He grinned at Clint's blush. That was never going to get old. "Now go and—"

"Pardon me, Sir." JARVIS interrupted.

"This had better be good, J."

"Yes, Sir. I do apologize for the interruption, however, you asked to be notified immediately when Dr. Foster and Ms. Lewis were expected to land.”

"Yeah," he sighed. "Go on."

"Their flight will be landing at Atlantic City International in approximately thirty minutes. Would you like for me to arrange their travel to the Tower by quinjet, Sir?"

"Who's gonna be flying?" Clint asked before he could answer.

"I would, Agent Barton."

Clint barked a laugh. "No offense, J, but no woman in her right mind is going to climb on a jet with a male pilot she can't see."

He turned to Tony, "I'll take a quinjet and get them. It's like a twenty-minute flight from here."

Tony nodded. "Plug yourself first."

"Yes, sir."

"And wear your field gear," he demanded because he's very aware of the danger out there for Clint. It was why he wasn’t helping clean up the city with Cap, Coulson, and May. With Fury MIA interrogating Loki, no one had told the rest of the SHIELD that Clint wasn't a willing double agent.

And, as Clint had said and Carter had seconded, there was nothing SHIELD Agents hated more than a double agent. Without Fury's word on the matter, Clint's head was on a very real chopping block if the wrong SHIELD Agent were to find him.

"If you're not back in an hour and you don't have a damn good reason, you're getting a spanking."

Clint grinned and gave him that eyebrow wiggle that he really should not find charming, "Yes, sir."

-*-

Clint watched as a trans-Atlantic carrier marked Lufthansa rolled to a stop just outside his comfort zone relative to the Quinjet.

Guys in safety gear rolled a set of stairs into place and the door popped open. A flight attendant walked out followed by two women and then another flight attendant. The flight attendants handed carry-ons over to the two women and gestured them over to the Quinjet.

No one else came off the plane and no one even thought the word _Customs_.

Perks of the Tony Stark hookup, he supposed.

He stepped down the ramp a bit to greet them but didn’t clear the jet completely because sight lines.

Dr. Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis stopped in front of him, just off the ramp.

“He’s not here?” Jane looked hurt and confused. “Why isn’t he here? He was supposed to be here.”

Lewis, on the other hand, looked ready to tase him. “He went back to Asgard. Didn’t he?”

“Not by choice,” he told them and held out the tablet JARVIS had insisted he take. Never let it be said the AI didn’t know his stuff when it came to managing the humans in his life because Lewis darted up the ramp and snatched the tablet out of his hand. When she got back down to Foster, they both leaned into the screen and Foster hit play.

He could have done without listening to the instant replay of Odin’s A+ Parenting, watching it in person had been bad enough. He got that the ladies needed to see this, though, so he just breathed through it.

“Why did you bring us here?” Foster accused heartbrokenly. “You should have just left us in Norway.”

“Respectfully, Dr. Foster, everyone with a connection to an Avenger is being brought to the Tower for their own protection. We have no idea what kind of fallout we’re looking at for the Battle of Midtown and we’d prefer if you didn’t get hurt. For Thor’s sake, if not for yourself.”

“Fallout?” Lewis demanded furiously. “You saved the fucking world. From aliens!”

“Yeah. But hundreds of people died and millions of people are mutating. The physical damage done to the city was extensive as well. Someone is bound to want revenge.” He focused on Foster and found her shaking like a little leaf. “That pad also has all the data we got from the wormhole that was opened above the Tower. Dr. Stark wants to know if you can use that to help us get Thor back.”

Foster looked up at him, fear galvanizing into fury and determination. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

“Uh,” he scratched the back of his head. “The rest of your bags?”

“This is it,” Lewis promised. “The rest is being mailed to us.”

Clint frowned. That sounded like a terrible idea and a huge security problem. “JARVIS, be sure everything mailed to the Tower is thoroughly scanned.”

“Of course, Agent Barton.”

“Come on,” he waved the ladies forward. “It’s a twenty-minute flight. Strap in, we’ll be there in no time.”

Lewis joined him in the cockpit, taking the co-pilot seat, but wisely keeping her hands to herself even as she watched him curiously. Foster, surprisingly, took one of the jump seats just outside the cockpit rather than one of the more comfortable passenger chairs further back.

“Nice collar,” Lewis said softly as he got them in the air. “I didn't know Tony Stark was a dom.”

“Nobody said Tony Stark was my dom.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You’re wearing a jeweled representation of an arc reactor in Iron Man’s colors. He might as well have branded his name on your forehead.”

He smiled to himself. He was ridiculously pleased with the whole thing.

Darcy just held up her fist for him to bump. He probably shouldn’t, but he bumped her right back. Their contract didn’t say anything about not touching people except for when he was leashed. Surely a congratulatory fist bump from another sub was okay.

Eh. He’d have to double check with Tony later.

“So, what do you do while she’s being all,” he waved vaguely in Foster’s direction.

Darcy laughed. “Same as you, probably. Keep her fed and caffeinated. Make sure she showers and sleeps at least every other day.

“She’s also pretty bad about setting things down and forgetting where she left them, so I’m a part-time knickknack wrangler. Or full time, depending on how engrossed and/or flustered she is.”

“But you’re not?” he tapped his collar.

“Believe it or not, I’m straight,” she delivered the pronouncement dripping in sarcasm.

“Well now you’re going to have to exit the Quinjet.” He smirked at her. “This is a queers-only Quinjet.”

She laughed. “So, seriously. What are we walking into here?”

Clint considered this issue. “You’ve heard of Loki?”

“Thor’s little brother with anger management and adequacy issues?”

“I would say daddy issues, but yeah, that works. He may or may not have been mind-controlled into leading the Battle of Midtown for the other side.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, well... We let SHIELD take him, to question him, and now we have no idea where he went. So, we’re trying to get him back so we can protect him.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “If he was mind-controlled then he’s innocent. They can’t hold him if he’s innocent.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know who mind controlled him?”

“Not yet, but we’re working on it.” He blew out a breath. “It gets worse.”

“Oh, god.”

“Yeah, the Director of SHIELD may or may not be mind-controlled, too.”

“The fuck?” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, seems pretty catching. Different source than Loki’s mind control, though. Or mine.”

“You were mind controlled?”

“By Loki,” he shrugged because he didn’t want it to be a Big Deal, “for three days.”

“Jesus,” she swore.

“Yeah, so, protecting the civilians around us is even more important. Because the other side—or sides, I guess—don't need you to agree with them to make you cooperate.”

“I’ll keep Janie in the Tower,” she promised. “You assholes keep the Tower safe.”

“That’s the plan.”

“What other civilians are you expecting?”

“I heard Bruce and Steve are single. They don't even have any real friends outside the group because one’s been frozen for like seventy years, and the other’s been on the run for more than ten. May and Coulson are married, no civvies there.” Well, other than Phil’s son, but nobody knew about their connection and Arthur was so deep in top secret Army research half the people that knew him probably thought he was dead. “My family’s been dead for years. Tony has Pepper, but she’s got enough security around her that the President’s probably jealous.”

Darcy nodded. The wheels were pretty obviously turning in her head, but after working with Natasha for years he knew it was better just not to ask. Better to let her come out and say it in her own time.

“We’re going to have guests this evening to help with the Fury Problem. You guys can be there if you want, but it’s not required.”

Darcy just hummed in response, still lost in her own world. A glance back showed Foster with a pad of paper in her lap, looking between it and the tablet, doing calculations or taking notes or something.

Clint just rolled his eyes. Good thing it was a short flight.

-*-

"Really? That one?" Tony asked softly as the group wandered from the dining room to the living room for an after-dinner drink.

Steve just gave him a half-wild grin. It was the same exhilarated grin he had given Tony after the Chitauri had headed for the hills. It made Tony think that maybe romantic and/or sexual attraction has been a problem for good ole Captain America since coming to the future.

"I mean, based on my dad’s stories, Lewis is basically Bucky Barnes with tits. You realize?"

Steve shrugged, not bothered at all by this description.

"Alright. Fine. Just tell her what you want from her. Be open and honest and all those terrible things. But be prepared to renegotiate stuff at a later date."

"That's how you do things in the future?" Steve looked puzzled.

"Not everyone, but the people that actually respect the people around them? Yes."

“Noted.”

“Beer?” he asked Clint. “You can have one.”

Clint shrugged, “Sure.”

He'd just handed Clint his beer when PLATO spoke up, "Ey, guv." And Tony thoroughly regretted letting the kids pick their own accents and diction. This cockney bullshit was ridiculous.

"Ey, uh, Colonel O'Neill is trying to get War Machine's attention. Should I put him through?"

"Yes, please," Rhodey stood from where he'd been chatting with Coulson.

"War Machine, come in. This is O'Neill, over."

"Put me through," Rhodey stood and everyone else stood with him.

"Get it, bruv."

"O'Neill, this is Rhodes."

"Rhodes, I got two birds ready to land on Stark Tower. Just need to know where."

Tony frowned. JARVIS should have alerted them when aircraft entered his airspace. He grabbed one of the Pads he left lying around the Tower and started looking for these guys himself.

"On the roof of Stark Tower, there is a box made of eight lights," Rhodey told their sneaky bastard of a visitor.

"I see it," O'Neill confirmed.

"It should be big enough for an X-302, sir."

"It is."

"You'll have to land one at a time. Turn off your engine and any stealth tech you have active." When O'Neill failed to acknowledge, Rhode continued. "The square is a lift that will take you down to the hangar level. The actual parking is handled by robot arms that need to see you in order to not damage your craft, Colonel."

"Roger that."

"An unknown aircraft has landed on the hangar lift, Sir," JARVIS piped up about two minutes later.

"Take him down," he ordered and he changed the view on his Pad in time to see an aircraft unlike any he'd ever seen before ripple into being on the lift.

Clint leaned over his arm to get a good look, too.

It was certainly worth a look. A fixed but curved wing aircraft with a two-person cockpit. It was unarmed but the gaps where the weapons should go were both obvious and intriguing. Hover-capable, obviously, or it never would have been able to land on Quinjet elevator.

"It's so ugly it's almost pretty," Clint observed.

Tony just snorted and scrubbed a hand through Clint's hair.

"We're parked," O'Neill announced, amused.

"Lift's ready for bird number two," PLATO said over the open comm channel.

"Carter?" O'Neill prompted.

"On it, sir," a female voice said over the line.

"A second unknown aircraft has landed on the hangar lift," JARVIS confirmed again. “It is a match to the first, Sir.”

Tony just nodded to JARVIS.

"Let's go meet our guests." Tony led them over to the elevator. It was a little small for nine people, so they broke into two groups.

Tony, Clint, Rhodey, and Cap went first, just in case things went wrong or got violent, and made it down in time to see JARVIS’s helper arms set the second jet across the hangar from the other. JARVIS, thoughtfully, put it face to face with its twin. Both of them were in position to be fired upon by the two Quinjets already on the level.

“You think Phil could park LOLA here?” Clint asked, eyes still drinking in the two new jets.

“LOLA?” he blinked at his sub.

Clint turned to focus on him, looking confused. “Uh, Levitation Over Land Automobile? Convertible that flies?”

“I know what LOLA is, I’m just surprised. I was told she was destroyed.”

“Oh,” Clint scratched at the back of his head nervously. “Phil rescued her from SHIELD storage hell and restored her himself. He won’t consider this home until she’s here.”

“He can definitely bring her here.” Tony frowned. “I should have thought of that, you all have stuff wherever you lived before.”

“It’s not like it’s been a priority over, you know, saving the world. Fixing the city and all that.” Clint shrugged. “And it’s only been three days.”

“I don’t want any of ‘my’ stuff,” Cap offered. “I don’t know where any of it came from. Didn’t get to pick any of it.”

“SHIELD just kind of bought a bunch of retro stuff and shoved it at you,” Clint agreed.

“Doesn’t really help with integration,” Tony agreed. “They also socially isolated you, left you ignorant, and put a spy on you. Probably more than one.”

“That’s fucked up,” Rhodey breathed, shaking his head.

Cap shrugged but didn’t look happy with it, so Tony left it alone. If he could see the problem, they could start to fix it. Start to help him.

Okay, he couldn’t leave it alone. He offered, “You know, your girl Lewis is probably the best pick in the Tower to help you learn and adapt to modern culture.”

Cap gave him a quirk of the lips smile.

“Not that you have to,” he clarified. “But it’d probably make life in the future easier for you.”

The elevator doors opened and he got a good in-person look at the latest monstrosities the United States Air Force has come up with.

He huffed and looked at Rhodey, “I can do better.”

Rhodey just held out a hand in a taunting ‘be my guest’ kind of gesture.

Tony wrinkled his nose at him and focused on one of the jets. The cockpit stood open and two guys in flight suits crawled out of the first plane. One was young and sort of awkward, the other was older and obviously military. Both with wolf mantles—one red, the other gray, which was interesting—and deeply in love, which was even more interesting. As they knocked around under the plane, getting what appeared to be duffle bags out, Tony looked to the other jet.

The cockpit opened and a blonde woman dropped nimbly down to the deck. A scientist, based on how her raccoon mantle was eagerly taking everything in. She was followed to the ground by the biggest bastard Tony has ever seen in person. He was at least three inches taller than Steve, and just as big, but with Clint’s shoulders expanded to scale.

The rest of them had removed their helmets, but this dude was still rocking a beanie, which was weird—but was not nearly the weirdest thing about him.

“Uh, I’m Jack,” the gray wolf mantle guy said, waving awkwardly, “Colonel Jack O’Neill, two l’s.

“This is Dr. Daniel Jackson,” he flicked his hand to indicate the red wolf guy.

“Captain Dr. Samantha Carter,” was racoon chick.

“And Master Sergeant Murray Taylor,” was beanie dude.

“We’re here to brief you on Project Nautilus and help out with a bit of a pest problem?”

“Yeah, that’s nice,” Tony waved him off and pointed at ‘Murray’s’ stomach. “But what the hell is _that_?”

# Chapter Five

"What?" The one identified as Dr. Jackson blinked at them rapidly, his face was a study of innocent confusion.

"That, that thing in—what did they call you? Murray?—_Murray's_ middle." Tony looked up at the guy. "And what's your real name, by the way? Cause you are definitely not from around here."

"How could you possibly know that?" Captain Carter demanded while Murray just raised an eyebrow. It was impressive, the way he was able to get outstanding height with the one eyebrow without dragging the other one along for the ride, but Tony was not distracted.

"You don't really expect me to tell you that, do you?" Tony scoffed. "When I already know you're lying to me?"

"Tony," Rhodey chided softly. "That's Teal'c of Chulak."

"Different planet, realm, or reality?" he asked tightly.

"Planet," Jackson answered immediately and Colonel O'Neill rolled his eyes with his whole body at his mate.

"How long have you been on Earth?"

Teal'c of Chulak just blinked, full blown stone face, so Jackson answered again, "A little over two years. How can you tell he's not human?"

"Still not gonna tell you."

"How about this," Steve intervened. Like, physically moved between them. "You've obviously come a long way. Let's have Colonel Rhodes show you to your rooms. You can freshen up, get out of those flight suits, and everybody can _calm down_.

"When you're ready, you can join us on the common floor for a bite to eat and tell us everything."

"That sounds like a good idea, Captain," Jackson—who was apparently the party's face character—agreed. Then he held up a USB, "I have, uh, visual aids that will probably help with this whole thing."

Steve accepted the USB from him carefully and motioned Rhodey to get them moving.

"You realize you're going to have to tell them how you know, right?" Steve asked after they were gone.

"That's something you're going to have to learn about me, Cap. I don't have to do anything I don't want to." Tony gave him a mean little not-smile, "And there ain’t nobody that can make me."

Clint moved closer to him once the maybe-enemy was on the elevator. His weight against Tony's side was comforting.

And, okay, maybe he overreacted. Just a little.

But between Obie and Fury, he had plenty of reason for immediate, adverse reactions to dishonesty. Fuck, how much pain would seeing mantles have saved him if he'd been able to see them before the whole Ten Rings fiasco? He quickly decided that he didn't want to think about it too hard, so he boarded the elevator with the other two when it returned for them and went up in silence.

Coulson and May were standing guard right outside the elevator, looking ready for a fight when the doors opened. Banner was back a little bit, a secondary line of defense. Foster and Lewis were nowhere in sight.

"What happened?" May demanded.

Coulson looked them over and seemed to relax without moving when none of them were injured. "JARVIS returned the elevator to this floor before we made it to the hangar and said you would have to explain."

Tony allowed Clint to maneuver him to the couch. Clint dropped one of the decorative pillows between his feet and knelt on it, resting his head on Tony's thigh.

Tony sighed and settled a hand in his hair, comforting them both. "We got a less than stellar surprise."

"What did you see?" Steve asked as he sat on the opposite couch.

When Tony looked at him, he was looking both jealous and confused. A dom that didn’t know what he was, Tony assumed.

"This Teal'c is obviously an alien. His mantle was _not_ a creature from Earth. Neither were Thor's or Loki's for that matter. What bothered me was that he had that same thing Fury did—but it's in his stomach rather than around his neck. His mantle didn't look as unhealthy as Fury’s did, either, I don't get it."

"The rest of them didn't seem bothered or surprised by it," Clint offered without raising his head. "It almost seemed like they wanted to cover for him. Protect him."

"I can see that," Tony agreed.

"What does that mean?" Lewis asked as she entered from the kitchen and sat at Steve's feet.

Steve just relaxed. Dominant status: confirmed, Tony thought, amused. He'd have to get JARVIS to ninja some educational materials onto Steve's pad.

Wait, Tony frowned at himself. Had Steve even accepted a StarkPad for himself? He'd have to make sure of it later.

Or just give him one. Whatever.

"Maybe there's something in the visual aids Jackson provided?" Clint asked.

Steve silently held up the USB.

"There's a port in the table," Tony told him, much to Steve's confusion.

Lewis silently took the drive from him, deftly uncovered the port hidden in the center of the table, and plugged in the device.

"Scanning now, Sir," JARVIS confirmed. "No viruses or other cyberwarfare detected."

"Show us."

The pictures made very little sense. There was some sort of dig site in probably Egypt showing a circle made of stone being held up on one of its sides by rope.

There was a short video of the same stone circle in a room with a ramp leading up to it. An inner ring on the circle spun several times in alternating directions, and at the end blue energy exploded out of the center before settling into what Tony can only call a pond of light.

"An event horizon," Foster breathed. "They're making wormholes. Einstein-Rosen Bridges."

Personally, in her place, he'd be offended rather than pleased or awed or whatever that was on her face. They were playing with her field of research and hadn't invited her to join them. That was a slap in the face, as far as Tony's concerned.

The next short video was the four assholes they’d met downstairs walking up the ramp to the pond. They disappeared _through_ the pond and when the device disengaged, they were gone.

Foster squeed.

Clint shot Tony an amused look. Tony rolled his eyes even though he was amused, too, and scrubbed a hand through his sub’s hair.

Then there were a series of pictures. A gray snake like thing sticking out of slits in Teal'c's stomach, with articulated frills and fins all around its head.

That could not be sanitary, Tony frowned, feeling uncomfortable on the man’s behalf.

"That's what's in Fury?" Phil asked.

Tony just nodded.

Pyramids. Full-sized pyramids, floating next to planets. Smaller pyramids, more rounded and maybe the size of a suburban house. A craft similar to the ones that just parked on the hangar level but sleeker, almost glossy.

A group of people dressed to the nines in ancient looking finery and dripping with gold.

There was a video of one, a woman, that made her eyes glow like he’d thought he’d imagined Fury's eyes doing just the other day.

Then the file cut to a fucking Roswell Gray. A straight up Roswell Gray. On a weird ass chair.

Tony wondered if he could even stand, because he did not look at all healthy.

There were spaceships now that were different from the first set. Gray instead of gold. Long like proper ships rather than _pyramids_. Which was a stupid fucking concept, he had to say. Dramatic, sure. Over the top, definitely. But that couldn't be at all convenient.

"Sir, Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes's party is on their way to this level," JARVIS warned.

"Cut the feed."

Several people huffed in disappointment when the display of visual aids immediately winked out.

Tony was more stuck on the implication that there were _two_ possible enemies out there with fucking spaceships. And armies to go with them, probably. On top of whoever was behind Loki, because the two ship styles were wildly different than the ones he saw on the other side of the wormhole.

He might have to rethink his no weapons policy.

He ran a tired hand over his face. Fuck. This was not what he wanted.

Still. It was better to _know_.

The elevator dinged and Rhodes stepped out with his little tagalongs.

"Hungry?" Steve asked, standing. He helped Lewis to her feet without even looking at her.

"Starving, actually," Jackson confirmed.

"Dinner should still be warm," Lewis slid smoothly into the spot of hostess at Steve's side even though it was _Tony's_ Tower. He couldn't be fucked to bother though.

He looked down at Clint to find him watching him, "What do you think?"

"I think they need us, sir." Then he considered, "And we probably need them, too."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Even though he kind of hated it. "You ready to dig into this?"

"Whatever you need, sir."

Tony looked around to the others. May and Coulson were having a low, tense discussion. "You guys okay?"

The two agents shared another tense look before Coulson spoke up. "Did they tell you their project name?"

"They said Nautilus, I think." Tony frowned. "Yeah, Nautilus."

Which made an amusing sort of sense. One would require a submarine if one were going to spend all of their time traveling through the Water Puddle of Doom.

"Their unit patches said Stargate Command," Clint piped up.

Coulson admitted. "Fury had given me some briefing material on the Project."

"He wanted us for this?" Clint asked.

"He wanted me," Coulson corrected. "But I wasn't going to leave you in the field with another handler. Especially not Sitwell, who was my most likely replacement."

Clint scrunched his nose in distaste. "I fucking hate that guy."

"I know,” Coulson admitted wryly. “One of you would have been dead within the month."

"It would have been him," Clint assured him with a smirk.

"He is incredibly fond of poison, if you'll recall." Coulson rolled his eyes. "Either way, I didn't want that on my conscience, so I said no and nothing ever came of it."

"So, you'll know if they're leaving things out," Tony supposed.

"Assuming Fury told me the truth," Coulson countered. "Which we couldn't count on, even if he wasn't compromised."

"Nah," Clint shook his head against Tony’s thigh. "You couldn't do whatever job he wanted you for if he didn't give you the actual facts. And you'd have found out if he lied to you real quick once you were on the ground. That shit would damage your working relationship, like, permanently, and he relies on you too much to risk that."

Tony inclined his head because that was a good point.

Coulson obviously considered that, then he agreed with it, too.

But if Fury relied on Coulson that much, "With Fury MIA, have you told SHIELD that Clint's innocent and off limits?"

Coulson shook his head, looking sad.

"Most of SHIELD thinks they've been fucking for years," May huffed. "No one would take his word for it because they'd assume he’s been compromised. In Clint's favor."

"That'll change when they see Clint's collar, though."

May shot him a skeptical look.

Which, fair. If Clint managed to get married to Romanoff, and the rumors of him and Coulson survived even _that_?

"Hey," he poked Clint's shoulder gently, "you never told me how you wound up married to Romanoff. Is that why you hate Sitwell?"

Clint huffed at him and sat up to make eye contact easier. "Human trafficking, Nevada. We'd found a US Senator's missing daughter in Malaysia when her trail had gone cold in Las Vegas."

"So, you were trying to connect the dots," Tony guessed.

"Yup. We needed all the players before we shut them down or they’d just open up shop again under different names and cover businesses, you know? Well, one of the businesses on the last street we could place her on was a quickie wedding chapel. Two people had to go in, but gay marriage wasn't legal yet so it couldn't be Nat and May."

"And no one would believe me and Romanoff," Coulson agreed. "But Clint and Natasha's friendship had always been intimate."

"We figured it had the best chance of working even if the little Hawk is shit at undercover."

"Fuck you, May," Clint snapped without any real heat.

May just tutted at him, "Now what would your dom say."

"Probably 'fuck you, May’,” Tony seconded and the woman just cackled in response.

He was really digging the acceptance he was getting from this team. Which reminded him, "J, has Cap been issued a Pad yet?"

"None of the Avengers have been issued StarkPads at this time, Sir."

"Well, that won't do." And, as an added bonus, issuing them before a briefing made them mission equipment and not a gift for the others to feel guilty over and possibly reject.

He made Clint stand so he could get off the couch and went to one of the wall cabinets. Clint followed, so he gave him four and took four Pads for himself. At his gesture, Clint handed his over to Coulson, May, Banner, and Foster.

Tony gave one to Clint when he sat back down on their couch and waited for the others to come back.

“You never explained how that resulted in you hating Sitwell,” Tony reminded.

“Yeah, well. There’s only one reason for people to go to a quickie wedding chapel. Sitwell was supposed to destroy the paperwork, but instead he fucking filed it. Nat and I were technically married for _three years_ before SHIELD redid my security check and realized I’d lied about my marital status.

“They pulled me out of the field right in the middle of a fucking mission. Put me in a cell like some sort of criminal. May and Nat could have _died_ because they had no backup, all thanks to that asshole failing at paperwork.” Clint all but spit the last and Tony couldn’t really blame him.

“Jesus, how was he not fired?”

“Beats me.”

“I’ll fix it,” he promised his sub. “J, tell Fri that I want fucking _everything_ on this Sitwell bastard.”

“Of course, Sir.”

He didn't have to wait long to give Cap and Lewis their Pads after that.

"What?" Cap hesitated before taking it.

"So you can take notes," Tony answered, going for absent minded rather than condescending. "There's a stylus you can use like a pen on the screen, you can take pictures and videos; it’s fully loaded. Though JARVIS is going to record everything in case we need to review later."

"On that note, let's start with the NDAs, huh?" Jackson offered and Teal'c put a heavy looking briefcase on the coffee table. "One of the few things that's changed since SHIELD took us over is that they've streamlined the clearance and NDA process. Which is nice, because the old NDA looked like an honest-to-god telephone book."

"They said the old NDA gave away too much about the program, which yeah," Colonel O'Neill agreed. "Some of the threats were _very_ specific."

"Some of the _verbiage_, Jack. Verbiage," Jackson corrected.

"Are you saying they weren't threats?" Jack gave him skeptical eyebrows.

"Well, no, but you can't just call it that."

Tony held up a hand for silence and was rewarded by the argument stopping in its tracks. "SHIELD took over your project?"

"Yup," Jack agreed, his eyes cautious.

"That wouldn't have been, like, fifteen months ago, would it?"

"Just about," Colonel SassyPants confirmed.

"You guys in Colorado or Nevada?"

All four of their guests plus Rhodey blinked at him in surprise.

"Colorado," Jackson answered, confused. "Uh, what?"

"About fifteen months ago, the CEO of RRS purchased two _ridiculously_ expensive think tanks. One in Nevada, one in Colorado. He used Obadiah Stane's authorization to do it. Since Obie had already been dead for several months at that point, I'm sure you can see the problem there."

Jackson nodded.

“I see several problems there, actually,” Captain Carter confirmed.

Tony inclined his head in acknowledgement and moved on. "So, just to be clear, you're telling me I own Project Nautilus?"

"That's right."

Jackson's answer both hurt because the project had obviously been making weapons behind his back and relieved, because now he could dig deep in the program and no one could fucking stop him.

"And Project Nautilus is also called Stargate Command?" he asked because Clint was right. The BDU jackets they were all now wearing had Stargate Command patches on one shoulder.

They all agreed, looking a little thrown off their game.

"What is a Stargate?"

"That's a good place to start," Jackson popped to his feet. "Uh, do you have the visual aids?"

"JARVIS."

The first picture of the dig in Egypt popped into place in the air above the coffee table.

"On a dig near the Great Pyramids in Giza, 1928. This device, which we now know as the Stargate, was recovered by Professors Paul Langford and Heinrich Gruber."

-*-

“That brings us to two weeks ago,” Jackson started again after their second snack and potty break. “When the Tok’ra came to us, they told us they’d been doing a System Lord census and found one missing. Seth or Set. JARVIS?”

JARVIS changed their holographic display to a _recording _of a holographic display. The recording showed a tiny light pod _thing_ projecting a spinning gold pyramid with symbols for the various Egyptian gods. One of them was blinking. Tony assumed that was the symbol for Set.

“Did they give you any data on their System Lord census?” Cap asked from where he was once again taking notes on his Pad.

His use of the damn thing had been smooth. He very quickly progressed from first time to veteran user proficiency-levels during the three hours they’d been going over the details of the Stargate Program. Tony would dearly love to know if that was his natural adaptability, something the serum gave him, or a sign of JARVIS’s deft assistance. But. He didn’t want to upset whatever it was that was letting Steve be so comfortable with his new circumstances so he stomped on the urge to ask.

“They gave us the device you see in the recording,” Jack told them, “Not that we can get it to display anything other than that damn pyramid.”

“You have it?” Tony asked.

“Not with us,” Captain Carter answered. “But I can get it for you. You clearly have technology we didn’t know existed; you might have better luck.”

“It’s not luck,” he assured her and she just nodded.

“Teal’c and I tracked the Cult of Set through the ages,” Jackson said like the interruptions never happened. “Goa’uld have a predictable MO—they crave power and worship. We found he’d set up shop again just outside of Seattle and went to pay him a visit.”

“I assume it didn’t go well for him,” Steve said looking at Jack.

Jack shrugged, “We wouldn’t be here if it didn’t.”

“So, Set’s dead?” Tony asked and he got a round of nods in response. “Any idea who’s in Fury then?”

Jackson shook his head, “I’m not convinced Fury is infested. His behavior is far outside the norm for a goa’uld.”

“He has all the power he could want over Earth, but gets none of the blame when things go wrong,” Clint snorted. “And if you think he’s not getting worshiped, you clearly don’t understand what it’s like inside an agency like SHIELD. Half the agency thinks he walks on water, and even the half that doesn’t would throw themselves on a grenade for him without question.”

“I’d say that fits the MO,” Jack concluded.

“And you said that’s a goa’uld?” Tony pointed at Teal’c’s middle.

“I carry a prim’ta of Apophis,” Sergeant Stoic answered like that was not the weirdest thing _ever_.

“Which is a baby goa’uld?”

“That is correct, Doctor Stark.”

“I assume there’s some color variation across the species? I mean there has to be some sort of physical sign of genetic diversity, right?”

“Indeed.” The Eyebrow of Curiosity shot upward.

“Yours is kinda peachy. His was like a blue-black. And it was bigger, I assume because his was a mature whatever,” he waved dismissively.

“Your logic is sound.”

“But rather than just gestating, it’s actually in his head. So, there is an adult goa’uld in control of the man basically in charge of Earth’s security.”

He got another round of nods.

“I’d say that violates the Protected Planets Treaty, wouldn’t you?”

O’Neill blew out a breath, “I’ll contact Thor. See what he says about it.”

“Seems to me like he’d be pretty invested in the violation of his own treaty,” Cap offered, looking severe.

O’Neill shrugged, “Alien logic is not always our logic.”

“I don’t care about the treaty,” Bruce said abruptly. “I’m worried about _him_. Is his species supposed to be covered in mucus?”

“Say what?”

“The thin layer of fluid covering his body, makes him look glossy? Looks like mucus to me. Are they biologically related to, say, tree frogs?”

“Not that we’re aware of,” Captain Carter frowned, leaning over Bruce’s shoulder to see what he was looking at.

“Then they might have a significant problem,” Bruce pulled off his glasses and looked at the room. “And if they can’t fix it on their own, isn’t it our job to help them? As their allies?”

“You may have a point here, doctor,” O’Neill offered cautiously.

“Why wouldn’t they tell us, though?” Carter asked.

“Because it would make them appear weak?” Tony offered and everyone looked at him. “I can tell you from experience, you don’t tell people you’re sick when you want them to rely on you. If they are sick and hiding it, I’d say we’re not that different after all.”

"If they’re sick, they’re sick. We can ask Thor once he’s here and move forward. Right now, I'm more concerned about the fate of RRS and the SGC," Jack said plainly.

"Because I own it," Tony assumed.

"Because you own it and because we are technically a civilian corporation that has accomplished its mission," Jack agreed. "But the mission has grown. And it grew even more after the Battle of Midtown. We can't afford to stop. _Earth_ cannot afford for us to stop."

Tony cut his eyes over to Rhodey. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I keep really strict boundaries between my job and our friendship, Tones." Honey Bear admitted softly. "We were friends before I got the job and I'd like to be friends after."

Tony nodded, accepting that.

"That said, as soon as I knew you needed to know, I ensured the best people available would come in and brief you so that you could make the best decision _for you_.

"I felt—and I still feel—that me telling you all this and then telling you that you had to keep RRS open, possibly expand the budget, possibly work on it yourself, would come perilously close to manipulating you to do what the government would want. Especially now, after the Battle of Midtown.

“You'll remember I promised to never do that to you."

Tony huffed, "Alright, fair. But I still feel like you should have told me earlier."

"If I'd known about the RRS connection before, Tones, I would have told you before," he promised with such sincerity that Tony let him off the hook right then.

"Alright." He scrubbed a tired hand over his face and settled Clint a little more firmly against his side. "We need a new mission statement for RRS, because I am _not _closing her down. It needs to be something broad enough to cover SHIELD and the SGC and all the products they put out, but not specific enough to blow their cover in any way."

The room agreed.

"I need to figure out my staffing problems. Even if we get the snake out of Fury, I can't leave him in charge of RRS. At the very least, he's going to need time to recover from being a prisoner in his own body and we can’t afford for SHIELD to falter."

"You need a civilian administrator for the SGC and Area 51, too." Jackson interjected and Tony nodded, adding it to his mental list.

"Coulson, wanna be a CEO?"

"Temporarily or long term?" was his first question.

"Depends on a lot of factors. Probably long term. J and Fri have found a list of problems in SHIELD that are beginning to form a very ugly picture. I need someone in charge I can trust to hold people accountable. That list is not very long."

"Can JARVIS send me what you have so far so I can make a fair assessment?"

Tony waved and JARVIS announced, "I have sent all relevant materials to your and Agent May's StarkPads, Agent Coulson."

"I have an idea for a mission statement," Lewis offered from where she'd curled up on the couch next to Steve.

"Let's hear it."

"JARVIS was letting me look through the public information on Rogers Research and, I mean, based on the products and papers they've put out. There's lots of medical techniques, a couple medicines, cures for stuff, pollution solutions, electronics. I'd say the mission statement should be something like: Making humanity better. Better life, better health, better planet."

"There's something in there," he agreed. It could also be taken _very_ wrong though. "J, send it through legal and marketing. See if they’ve got suggestions or anything."

"Of course, Sir."

"And get me an appointment with Aaron Hotchner for tomorrow. Or, better yet, verify he's in town and I'll go ambush him."

"Who's Aaron Hotchner?" Jack asked.

"A profiler, actually," Tony smirked. "FBI Agent, former lawyer. Covered my ass when a stalker became a serial killer targeting men that looked just like me."

"He's on your shortlist," he guessed.

"Yup," Tony popped the 'p'.

"What do you need a profiler for?"

Tony just smirked at him, "And ruin the surprise?"

Jack groaned and Clint chuckled, so that was a win all around.

"Anything else we need to cover tonight?"

"Do you have readings from the...?" Carter pointed upward, indicating the wormhole. "Or do you still have the device?"

"We do. Both, actually, but you'll have to beg Dr. Foster for them. And if I were her, I wouldn't let you have any of my toys after leaving her out like you have."

"I've been trying to recruit her for over a year, but I've only gotten snotty little rejection letters from her assistant every time I tried to even talk to her," Carter may or may not have sent a grumpy look Lewis's way.

"What?" Darcy asked in surprise. "I haven't gotten anything with your name on it _at all_.

"I actually haven't gotten any offer letters for Jane in, like, six months other than the Tromsø thing, and that was a phone call. No invitations to conventions or anything either. That's weird, right?"

"That's pretty weird," Tony agreed.

Phil sighed. "I'll look into it. I wouldn't be surprised if someone's messing with your—both of your—mail. It's easier to protect you if we can control where you are. Usually, we do it by making sure the offers we want you to take are more inviting than the ones we don’t, but someone could have very easily crossed the line."

"That's fucked up," Darcy frowned.

"You didn't object to your stay in Tromsø," Phil countered. "Or Paris six months ago. Or London before that. SHIELD arranged them all by controlling or arranging offers from various scientists and universities."

Tony couldn't help but think Foster should be hurt to hear that. Or she would be, if she wasn't drowning in information about the Stargate and therefore not hearing a word anyone said.

"Maybe you should call your Thor now," Bruce offered softly.

Jack looked surprised by the request but recovered quickly. He pulled some sort of remote out of one of his cargo pockets and hit a button. "Thor? This is O'Neill, come in please."

"This is Supreme Commander Thor," a strangely digital voice flowed over the comm.

"How the hell are you, buddy?"

"I am well, O’Neill," that same digital voice said back. "How the hell are you?"

Tony choked back a laugh, that just sounded utterly ridiculous.

"I'm alright. Wondering if you can come for a visit. Got some people you need to meet."

There was silence over the line for several moments, "At your current location?"

"Would be best."

There was no verbal response just a weird _whoosh _noise and a white light, and the damn photo of him from Jackson’s visual aids was recreated in Tony's living room. Complete with the weirdly plastic chair.

"Thor," O'Neill stood and nodded. "Meet Tony Stark. He's the new owner of the, uh, Stargate Program on Earth."

"We have become familiar with Dr. Stark in our study of your planet." Thor zeroed in on him without waiting for O’Neill’s weird little flail in his direction. "He is one of the most advanced minds on your planet. He is our hope for your future."

"That's nice," Tony stood and approached the weird little guy. "Is your name really Thor? Because I can't help but think it’s not. I've met the real Thor, you see."

"Asgard names are unpronounceable by human vocal cords. We appropriated the names of legends that came before so that your ancestors would accept our assistance."

"Unpronounceable, huh?" Tony tipped his head to one side. "Let's hear it."

Thor pressed a button on his chair so that the light went out, and opened his weird little bud mouth. Nothing came out.

"Um, again?"

He opened his mouth again and again, nothing.

Tony looked at the other Avengers. None of them seemed to have heard anything either. Only, Steve who looked kind of confused and Bruce who was looking a little green.

"Are you actually saying anything? Or are you screwing with us?" Tony asked.

"Sir, if I may," JARVIS interjected.

"Go for it, J."

"I have recorded the aural signal Supreme Commander Thor is sending and have translated the message to a frequency within the human range of hearing."

"Let's hear it."

And JARVIS played something that sounded suspiciously like old dial up internet.

Recognizing that 'Are you fucking with me?' would be a _really_ insensitive question right now, Tony just nodded.

"We have two issues we want to discuss with you," he held up two fingers.

Satisfied his point was made, Thor re-pressed the translation button on his chair, "Go on."

"Are you sick? ‘Cause I can see that you personally aren't well, and Brucie here thinks there's something wrong with you physically, possibly with your species? Based on the pictures we were provided by Dr. Jackson."

Thor turned to look at Bruce. Again, without any sort of gesture or real formal introduction. "We are familiar with Dr. Banner as well."

"Then you know about, uh, the Other Guy?" Bruce offered carefully.

Thor inclined his head.

"So, when I tell you that he can _smell_ that you’re rotting? That the body you are currently living in is actively rotting?"

"That is a concern," Thor agreed. "Requesting your assistance was discussed, but the High Council put it aside when you had your Incident."

"Ask them again," Tony said. "’Cause we're offering. Free of charge. One of the greatest biochemists on the planet and a genius with money to burn. You could do a lot worse."

"We would require your discretion."

"We aren't going to tell anyone," he looked back at the room full of Avengers and SG-1.

Everyone indicated their agreement.

"And the second matter?"

"A goa'uld has taken over one of the key players in Earth's global security. You could say _the_ key player in Earth's security. I have a plan, but we’re gonna need your help to make it work."

"Go on."

# Chapter Six

“God, I love your cunt,” Tony groaned as he pounded into Clint from behind.

Clint was on his knees, low on his elbows with his hands stretched out and gripping the side of the mattress. He shook his head, clearly out of his mind as Tony pounded his prostate. “Sir, god.”

Tony gave him more of his weight, forcing Clint to still and brace himself. His muscles popped into sharper relief under his skin. His forearms were fucking art. And his back. And his shoulders. Fuck. He was perfect. Clint was perfect.

Tony gripped him harder, giving him _everything_. “I’m gonna give it to you so good. Gonna fill you up. Ruin that pretty little cunt of yours.”

“God, sir, please,” Clint begged.

“Yeah? You want it?”

“Please!”

“So good. You’re so good, Clint. Such a good boy.” All he got for that was more moaning, he could feel himself slipping over the edge. “Such a good boy. Come for me.”

Clint let out a sob as he obeyed, and the vice of him made Tony’s end inevitable.

“Was that good for you?” he asked when he could think again. Clint shot him a tired but pleased look over his shoulder. Tony hummed, “I don’t think I’m done.”

“_Any_thing you want, sir.”

Carefully, he slid out of the man below him and watched his mess begin to leak out. “I think I’m gonna clean my pretty little hole here.”

He didn’t expect—and didn't get—a response outside of a hearty groan as he moved down so that he was straddling Clint’s calves. He slapped Clint’s ass just to make it jiggle. Then he spread his cheeks to start cleaning up their mess.

He gave him a good, solid lick to the hole and looked up to watch Clint’s reaction only to find Pepper frozen and staring in the bedroom doorway.

“Well, I have to say this is _wildly_ inappropriate, Ms. Potts.”

Clint froze, tense and unhappy underneath him.

Pepper squeaked and spun on her heel. “I’m going to—” and she pointed back toward the main room.

“That’d be good,” he agreed.

As soon as the door closed and they couldn’t hear her heels anymore, Clint started laughing. Tony dropped his head onto Clint’s ass and groaned.

“How about you put JARVIS in charge of that door too?”

“I don’t know why I didn’t in the first place,” he sighed, getting up.

Though, honestly, he knew why. He and Pepper were dating when he designed this floor and she hadn’t wanted JARVIS to have control of _their_ bedroom.

“I’ll add it to the list,” he promised.

“Awesome,” Clint got up and sauntered over to the bathroom. If he was bothered at all by cum dripping out of his ass, Tony couldn’t tell, and _that_ was hot_._

The moment he put his hand on the bathroom door, he heard Clint from inside, “Uh-uh.”

“What?” he spluttered.

“Go deal with your… Pepper. She already walked in on us once. That’s plenty.”

He pushed the door open and looked at Clint, testing the shower temperature in nothing but his collar. “You know she’s just a friend.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said evenly. “Unnerved that we aren’t as private as I thought, definitely. But not jealous.”

“I’ll have it fixed by tonight,” he promised. Because seriously? A couple electromagnets, a bit of wiring, and JARVIS could program the feature into himself. Twenty minutes, max, done.

“Then you can have my ass again tonight,” Clint stepped into the shower. _Alone_.

And, yeah, okay. Tony couldn’t blame him. He was very clear on his boundaries, and a bedroom intruder is not the same as consensual exhibition.

“Alright, lemme clean up real fast and I’ll go deal with that,” he started the sink running and glared half-heartedly toward the main room. “And get us breakfast.”

“Cap should already be up and cooking,” Clint offered from within the stall. “It’s his turn.”

“Turn?”

“Yeah, we made a schedule. Just for making breakfast though.”

“Am I on it?”

“Yup, first in the rotation. I took it. Everyone loved your French Toast, by the way.”

“Well, thank you, I worked very hard on it.”

Clint just laughed.

“You didn’t have to do that for me though.”

“I know, but I hadn’t gotten to talk to you about it yet. Seemed like the right thing to do.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that other than, “Thanks.”

“Yup.”

His beard was a little rough, but he’d fix it in his shower later. He pulled on a pair of sweats and wandered out to see what mischief was happening in his kitchen.

And it was indeed mischief. Rogers was scrambling eggs and Lewis was buttering toast. With _peanut butter_. It had to be the weirdest thing his kitchen had ever seen but when Lewis shoved a slice into his hand, he took a bite anyway.

It was alright. “Yeah, I’m gonna need like three more of these.”

Lewis just laughed and popped more bread in the toaster.

He slid onto a bar stool next to Pepper, “So.”

“I came to get some signatures,” she explained. “I should not have barged in; JARVIS did warn me you were busy.”

“Good. You’re going to apologize to Clint, too.”

She scoffed.

“He’s important to me, Pep.”

“JARVIS told HELEN you were seeing someone new,” she studied his face for several moments.

“The kids gossip with you?” he demanded.

“Of course. They love their dad and are very protective of you. As your CEO, they see me as their human hands, basically.”

He didn’t know how to feel about that one.

“Don’t tell me they haven’t tattled to you about me and…” she waved vaguely.

“Happy?” he guessed. “Yeah, they told me. He gonna propose?”

“He asked HELEN for my ring size, so I guess so.” She shrugged, playing it cool, but he could see that she was looking forward to it.

“Well, I demand the right to walk you down the aisle.”

She just laughed. “Tell me about him.”

“Name’s Clint Barton. Six months younger than me and about half a dissertation away from a doctorate in Applied Mathematics. SHIELD Agent since his twenties, a badass with a bow, and now an Avenger.”

“That’s...” she frowned, “very surface level stuff, Tony.”

“It’s early days, Pep.”

“Not all that surface level for a SHIELD Agent,” Clint disagreed, coming into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of Tony’s jeans and one of his t-shirts. The pants were tight enough that he was surprised the guy got them buttoned and the shirt? Damn. Tony discretely checked himself for drool.

He shot Tony an amused look. “Do I want to know how you found out when I was recruited?”

“JARVIS tattled to FRI and she prioritized your file in her hacking.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Clint plunked down on the other side of Tony from Pep. “Questions?”

“Oh, dozens but I’m endeavoring to take it slow.”

Clint laughed. Then his eyes landed on Pepper and he stopped.

Pep, for her part, stood, walked around Tony, and extended her hand. “My name is Virginia Potts. You can call me Pepper.”

Clint raised one eyebrow at her and looked to Tony. He nodded his permission—which was weird because he totally didn’t require Clint to ask permission to touch someone else unless Clint was leashed—and only then did Clint take her hand, “Clint Barton.”

“I want to apologize for earlier. JARVIS warned me that Tony was indisposed but I blew him off. I only have myself to blame.”

“Yup,” Clint agreed.

“To make it up to you, how about I take you on a spa day? We’ll get the works and I can give you tips about managing Tony.”

And that was offensive. Tony was offended. He was a fantastic boyfriend and he did not need managing, thank you very much, Pepper.

“I think I manage him just fine, thanks.”

“Embarrassing stories then? Present ideas? I have tons of them though they wouldn’t be appropriate coming from me, anymore.”

“Pretty sure Tony would love to get inappropriate gifts,” Clint countered. “Especially from properly polite people like you.”

Tony shrugged because he wasn’t wrong. Getting something horrible and ridiculous from Pep would probably make his whole damn holiday.

And he was astonished to see someone making Pepper work so hard for something she clearly wanted. At least he wasn’t the only one in Clint’s doghouse though he’d already figured out his apology duties.

“Shopping then,” Pep offered, looking a little stressed.

Clint shook his head. “There are security concerns with me going out in public. I couldn’t risk you like that.”

“I’ll have Tony’s tailor come here,” Pepper countered, going in for the kill. “We’ll talk cut and color and pattern and accessories until you know the fashion inside and out. You’ll feel so confident the first time you put on one of Vincenzo's suits. I promise you, he is magic.”

Clint hesitated.

“In two weeks, we’re having a fundraising ball to benefit the city’s recovery. You’ll need a tux to take your place on Tony’s arm in public for the first time.”

And Tony had to adjust himself. He tried to be smooth about it but Clint’s amused look made it clear he’d failed. He couldn’t help it, alright? The idea of showing up with Clint on his _leash_ for the first time at one of his own parties? The chance to deck Clint out in a properly blinged out collar? That was hot.

“Make sure your tux doesn’t clash with your collar,” he ordered.

“Alright.” Clint didn’t look at either of them as he admitted, “I want to get my nails done, too.”

“I got a guy,” Pepper promised. “A team, they can do hair and makeup too. And they make house calls.”

“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.

“When?” Pepper pressed because she had always been the detail-oriented type.

“Can the tailor come this morning?”

“Of course, he’ll need time to get your suits perfect.”

“This morning, then. Let's wait on the nails though, in case a mission or something comes up soon.”

“I can agree to that,” Pepper smiled, glad to finally be getting somewhere. “Let’s say next week? We’ll just make Wednesday mornings our pampering day?”

Clint gave her a doubtful look but nodded.

“I think you’ve been adopted,” Tony stage whispered to Clint, who just rolled his eyes.

“You done with breakfast yet, Rogers?” Clint demanded.

“Yup,” Steve emptied his frying pan into a bowl and placed the pan in the sink with a jaunty little spin. “JARVIS, you wanna tell everyone it’s ready?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

“Dining room?” Cap more ordered than asked. It was logical, though. Not like they could fit everyone around the kitchen counter.

“What do you need us to carry?” Pepper asked.

Everyone grabbed a platter or two. Eggs, bacon, sausage. Peanut butter toast, naked toast. Clint took the tray with butter, peanut butter, Nutella, and a half dozen different jellies.

“How do I get a grocery order in?” Clint asked as they sat down.

“Uh, just tell JARVIS and he’ll order it, why?”

“Coulson will probably do his famous breakfast tacos tomorrow. I’m thinking biscuits and gravy the day after, before whatever healthy disaster May will force on us the day after that.”

“You’re doomed now, Birdbrain,” May announced as she and Coulson entered the dining room. “Now I’m just going to carve up cantaloupe. Just all cantaloupe.”

Clint’s face made his opinion of that perfectly clear.

“Maybe blueberries, too,” Phil added.

Clint shook his head and whispered, dramatically betrayed, “You were my _brother_.”

Phil just snorted and took his seat at Clint’s left.

“You said you needed signatures?” Tony asked Pepper.

“Yes. The paperwork for The Maria Stark Foundation is ready. I’ve spoken with Juilliard and we’re ready to move forward on new scholarship as well, I just need you to confirm the conditions I’ve chosen, and—” Pepper stopped mid-sentence.

It was so unlike her, he looked up from his peanut butter toast to find out what threw her off.

It was Teal’c, who had come to breakfast without his beanie, because of course he did. It made sense really, this was supposed to be a safe place for him to be ‘out,’ as it were. And a man with metal sunk deep in his forehead, was worth a stare or two. Or maybe it was his sheer size that caught Pep’s attention because on Chulak they apparently fed their babies with a corn scoop.

Pepper cleared her throat and looked away. “I apologize.”

“Oh, uh, I figured out what was going on with RRS,” he offered by way of explanation. “You don't need to keep looking at that at all. In fact, I’m going to take it as my personal project so just send all of your paperwork to me. Or better yet, send it to Agent. He’s going to be my CEO of RRS.”

“I haven’t agreed to that yet,” Agent reminded him as he scooped a portion of eggs onto his plate.

Tony just gave him the look that deserved because they both knew he was in no way ready to abandon SHIELD, especially not with everything they were discovering was wrong with it.

“I need the paperwork to hire two, uh, Board Members with me.” That’s how Assistant Directors of SHIELD would translate, right? To Board Members of RRS? “I’m hiring two today.”

“Two?” Coulson asked in surprise.

“Well, we have to reseat the whole thing, right?” Because Fury did not tolerate Assistant Directors. He did most of the work himself and pushed bits and pieces off on Hill and Coulson and a select few others—probably to keep anyone from getting close and asking questions about what the hell he thought he was doing.

“I’m going to need a briefing packet from you, too,” he told Daniel Jackson.

Jackson shifted in his chair, “Uh, there’s the question of clearances?”

“I’m giving him clearance,” Tony countered. “These are my toys; I pick who plays with them. This guy is very aware what Top Secret means and his security clearance is already quite high, but you can include an NDA, if it makes you feel better. I’ll even bring it back signed.”

Coulson cleared his throat and stared at him for a minute, “Am I still an Avenger?”

“Do you still want to be?” Tony countered. “Because I’m all for it, but do you want two full time jobs? Let's be real, once Captain TightPants gets out of Save the City Mode, team training’s going to get pretty brutal.”

“Huh,” Steve sat back in his chair. It wasn’t a noise of disagreement; it was the noise of a man realizing he needed to plan for what’s next.

“See?”

“Once an Avenger, always an Avenger,” Clint countered. “It's just whether you’re on the active roster or not that you have to decide.”

Tony pointed at Clint, “As always, I like the way you think.”

“I’ll spend today reviewing the information JARVIS gave me and give you my answer tomorrow.” Coulson promised.

Judging by the set of his jaw, pushing now would turn his not-quite yes into a definite not so Tony just nodded.

“We’re going to need a room with a whiteboard,” May told him, “a printer and lots of tape.”

“Ugh,” Tony’s heart hurt a little at the thought. “JARVIS can project anything you want on any wall in the building. He can even let you write on the projections and draw lines between them and whatever. Just pick a room and work out a method with him, please. This is a green building.”

She rolled her eyes a little bit but he could tell she was amused.

“Where are you going for your, uh, interviews?” Clint asked softly.

“Quantico, Virginia and the, uh, mobile base?” Because how else were you supposed to say_ the Helicarrier_ around people that weren’t even supposed to know it existed?

“Quinjet?”

“Suit Case, actually.”

“How are you going to carry the briefing packet and NDA then?”

“That is,” Tony pointed at him, thinking, “a good point.”

“And you should take security with you. I mean, take the Suit Case, definitely. But another Avenger would be smart.”

Tony frowned as he considered this. He couldn’t take Clint because his security concerns were valid, and he already had plans with Pepper. He couldn’t take May or Coulson because they were going to tear into the disaster called SHIELD and, knowing them, make a game plan for dealing with it. Taking Banner to Quantico would probably be as horrible as it would be hilarious, because while he had faith in Bruce and the Big Guy, he didn't have any in the average FBI agent. And there was no way he wasn’t going to tell either Bruce or the Hulk not to defend themselves.

“Hey, Cap, can you take a day off from Saving the City?”

Steve shot him an amused look and shrugged. “Worked all weekend, don’t see why not.”

“T and I will go too, if you want us,” Colonel Jack offered. “Jackson and Carter can work with May and Coulson on your SHIELD problem. They have some experience analyzing intelligence, and widely different points of view, which can be useful.”

“Yeah, why not,” he shrugged. "Got any tac gear Steve can borrow?"

Jack ran an assessing eye over Captain America. "He looks about T's size. We should have something that’ll work."

"Hats or covers or whatever all around, so Sergeant Taylor doesn't stand out."

"Of course, sir."

Tony turned to Clint, “Problem solved.”

Clint just rolled his eyes. Tony was starting to think that was SHIELDian for ‘you’re the best!’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I expect pictures, from both of you,” he gestured between Pep and Clint. “Running commentary at least from Pep. I’m missing my boy’s first fitting. This is a big day.”

“Why not just have JARVIS record it?” Pepper asked.

“Don’t try to shirk your duties off on JARVIS,” Tony chided. “I expect you to live tweet me the whole time. But not through twitter—like, with text messages. Right up until you get lunch, because I don't really care what you eat as long as you do.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

-*-

"Hotch."

He looked up to see Morgan standing just outside the BAU bullpen, holding the glass door.

"Morgan," he returned the greeting easily.

"According to Reid, he, Gideon, and Prentiss have landed at Gitmo with no problems."

"Good," he stopped and looked Morgan in the eye. There was no way he waited around just to tell Hotch something he already learned through their team SMS chat. "What's wrong?"

"Were you expecting Captain America to make a house call?"

Hotch blinked because, what?

He pushed past Morgan to check it out and, sure enough, Captain America was standing like a guard in olive drab BDUs to one side of his office door. The other side of the door was being guarded by a somehow even bigger gentleman.

Their uniforms had no name patches. No unit patches. Not even service patches or rank insignia. Curious. Worrisome but, curious.

He signaled Morgan that all was clear and to wait and made for his office.

Captain America and Shadow made a show of ignoring him as he reached for the doorknob but he knew he’d had their attention from the moment he’d entered the bullpen. Inside he found Tony Stark sitting on his couch. He had one Iron Man gauntlet on and he was fiddling with it with a long screw driver.

The Tony Stark equivalent of twiddling his thumbs.

There was a third male, older, also in olive BDUs playing attaché, but if he was anything less than a full bird Colonel, Hotch would eat his own loafers.

"Hey, Hotch," Stark greeted without taking his eyes off the screen on the inside of his briefcase lid.

"Dr. Stark," he offered cautiously.

"I need you to sign an NDA," he gestured to the stack of papers on the coffee table in front of Hotch's guest chair.

"Can I know why you need me to sign an NDA?"

"So, I can brief you on your new job," he said it like it was _obvious._

Aaron couldn’t find it in himself to agree. "I'm not looking for a new position, Dr. Stark."

Tony sighed and slipped the gauntlet into the briefcase in front of him. "Friday changed the world."

"Yes, it did." The Battle of Midtown changed everything. Was still changing _everything_.

The world now knew for a fact aliens existed and many were losing their minds over that. That panic got even worse when theories began to circulate that they had been attacked by trans-dimensional aliens.

Opinions on mutants had improved over night after the world had watched so many mutants step forward and fearlessly defend their world. Mutants beat the Army, the Police, and the New York City Fire Department to the scene. Mutants had beaten _everyone_ to the punch in turning back the alien invasion and no one was letting government forget that.

On top of that, it had to be taken into account the millions of mutations that had activated in the wake of the Battle. Including Haley’s and Jack’s. At this point, it was estimated that one in three Americans would mutate before it was all said and done, not to mention the rest of the world. Personally, Hotch thought one in three might be a conservative estimate but either way there was no way the Mutant Registration Act would pass now.

Which was a good thing for Hotch’s peace of mind. He hadn’t been able to figure out how he could honorably work for a government that would pass such foolish bigotry into law.

"I have a job opening that you are strangely perfect for,” Stark told him. “And it's bigger than serial killers or terrorists. You have all the skills I need in this position and our _planet_ cannot afford for me to put the wrong person in this job."

Interesting, but, "There are over a dozen former lawyer FBI Agents in this building."

Stark shot him a withering look. "You're more than that and we both know it. You're a strong leader that can make the tough calls. You're a civilian with tactical experience. You're intelligent, analytical, and you have strong moral fiber.

"And yeah, your legal knowledge from your time as a lawyer is helpful, but your time as a profiler is what really prepares you for the crazy curve balls this job will throw you.

"Work for me, Aaron. We’re doing good stuff. Changing lives, inventing and building things that you can’t even imagine. You’ll be saving the world every day. And, as an added bonus, you can be home in time for dinner every night."

Hotch blew out a breath. Haley would be in favor of that.

"No travelling, either. You'll have to move to Colorado Springs, but the Stark Industries Relocation Package is very generous."

Hotch read and signed the NDA, "You have a briefing package?"

"Colonel," Tony addressed the man at his side.

The colonel lifted one of the briefcases at his feet. The one that was _not_, it should be noted, Stark's fairly famous Suit Case. He placed it carefully on the coffee table in front of Hotch and took the completed NDA. He checked it over and nodded to Stark before putting it in yet another briefcase.

"The locks are keyed to your fingerprints," Tony explained. "Or, well, thumbprints, in this case."

“I understand.” Hotch wasn’t sure what else there was to say to that.

"Finish your current case and you've got leave for a week." Stark stood and buttoned his suit jacket. "If I'd gotten here before your team's plane took off, it would have been effective immediately, but we both know you'd never leave any of your people in the field without you to support them."

"My team," Hotch offered. "If one profiler is good, a team is better."

"We can work something out," Tony shrugged. "Probably. You wouldn't be moved as a team of profilers—this isn't that kind of project—but enough of your team has the science cred to dig in properly and still support you in various ways.

"Dr. Reid's academic prowess is obvious, but Garcia the Glorious’s isn't anything to sneeze at. And don't get me started on Agent Jareau. She's working on an advanced degree in biomed. She should be in biological warfare and the FBI has her trapped as a press liaison because she's _pretty_.” Tony huffed, irritated on JJ’s behalf. “It's ridiculous.

"I was already thinking Agent Morgan could transfer to NCIS and he and his boyfriend DiNozzo could become our Agents Afloat."

Which meant that this _command,_ or whatever the project was, had a large Marine—and possibly other military—presence and was possibly mobile. How could that have him home in time for dinner every night?

"Or he can stay FBI and cover the civilians on the project, I don't know how that all works." The careless flap of a hand made it clear he didn't care, either.

"This new girl, Prentiss. I like the look of her. She's solid. If she's interested, we can bring her in—but I draw the line at Gideon and Greenway. He's a horror show, and if her psych profile doesn't show extensive PTSD, it’s wrong.

"I know PTSD when I see it. Pretty sure we can detect each other across a crowded room. Huh," Stark frowned and turned to him. "You seen any research along those lines?"

"No, sir," he couldn't help the flare of amusement that this man could quite possibly become his _boss_. "But I'm sure Dr. Reid will enjoy the side project."

Tony gave a tight smile and handed Hotch his card. "If he finds anything, tell him to let me know."

“Agent Greenway is no longer with the FBI,” he felt pressed to inform Dr. Stark.

Stark just turned for the door. “Well, hopefully she finds whatever she needs out there.”

Hotch nodded and then he was gone. The Big Guy led them out, Captain Rogers fell into step with Stark, and the Colonel played rear guard all the way out of sight. If it weren't for the thick briefcase on his desk, he'd think it was all a dream.

Well, the briefcase and the screwdriver Stark apparently forgot.

His phone rang, it was Gideon.

"Tell me what you've got."

-*-

"Where to now?" Steve asked as he held the button to raise the Quinjet ramp.

"The Helicarrier," Tony answered as he shoved his Suit Case into one of the jet’s cargo netted storage cubbies.

"And what is a Helicarrier?" Colonel O'Neill asked as he dropped into the copilot seat. “It can’t be what it sounds like.”

“Oh, it’s exactly what it sounds like,” Tony smirked as he dropped into the pilot's chair. "It’s an aircraft carrier that flies."

He thoroughly enjoyed O'Neill's slack-jawed face. "A what?"

"A fully functioning aircraft carrier that can also fly."

"It's just a small one," Captain Killjoy said comfortingly, "but it is invisible."

Jack shook his head. "Now I know you're fucking with me."

Tony may or may not have cackled at that point.

"How do you even find an invisible aircraft carrier that flies?" O'Neill demanded. Then he thought about it. “Carter would have some sort of doodad for it, but I see none of Carter's doodads _here_."

"Sit back and prepare to be amazed," Tony smirked and got them in the air.

"Sir, I have an urgent message for you from Agent Coulson."

"Let's hear it, J."

"He requests you return to the Tower immediately after your visit to Quantico. With no stops in between."

"Uh, he say why?"

JARVIS hesitated. _JARVIS_, of all people, hesitated. "It is a delicate matter, Sir."

"Well, spit it out," Tony ordered. "We all know something's wrong with SHIELD.” Assuming that was what this was about. Which it should be, since that was what Coulson was slated to work on today.

"Agent Coulson believes SHIELD has been compromised, Sir. By Hydra." JARVIS ripped off the bandage _like a professional_.

"How compromised?" O'Neill asked.

"We estimate upwards of forty-seven percent."


	2. Chapter 7-Epilogue

# Chapter Seven

"Here's what we've found," Coulson called everyone's attention to the beginning of the electronically-projected jungle of facts and photos that filled up the briefing room.

"It all starts, from SHIELD’s point of view, with the unexpected death of Howard Stark on December 16, 1991."

"Which may have been planned and executed by Hydra," May interjected, looking furious.

Coulson shot her a look Tony couldn't interpret and continued. "Alexander Pierce received an emergency appointment by President Bush to Director of SHIELD.”

"But it's a private company," Cap objected. "The President doesn't have the authority to do that."

"Correct," Coulson nodded. "There is possible evidence that Pierce paid Obadiah Stane to look the other way about the RRS completely, but it's sketchy at best."

"And twenty years old at worst," Tony waved it all off. "Let's move on."

"January 1992, Peirce used the perceived emergency caused by Director Stark's assassination to push the largest class ever through SHIELD Academy. _My_ class at the SHIELD Academy," Coulson looked personally offended by this. "With the intelligence provided by JARVIS and FRIDAY, we've been able to verify Peirce and at least a third of that class were, and still are, Hydra. Including Jasper Sitwell and Grant Ward.”

"How?" Tony demanded.

"We found this information through various means," Coulson answered, not quite evasively. "Cross referencing activity of a suspected terrorist organization that has been getting more and more bold over the last ten years with SHIELD personnel placement and activity. Also, by finding suppressed physical evidence of wrongdoing, including recordings as all SHIELD agents wear body cams in the field.

"And then there is also this," he gestured at the one blank wall in the room.

What played could only be called a _recruitment_ video, and it ended with the Hydra octo-skull bleeding to life in the center of the screen.

"That was found on former Director, now Secretary of State, Peirce's private SHIELD server."

"And you're sure this is for real?" Tony couldn't help but ask, because _Hydra_. They were supposed to be dead in the ‘40s.

Clint handed him the Pad he was holding and Tony flicked him a thankful smile, not even caring whose Pad it was. Okay, he cared a little, but it was Clint’s own Pad, so Tony didn't feel bad using it to tear through the information FRIDAY had already retrieved.

"Looks that way, Boss," FRIDAY's lilting voice spoke up even as she dumped file after file onto Clint's Pad. "We've been able to find two Hydra Preparatory Academies within the United States. I’ve hacked their records. Approximately 20% of SHIELD'S current field agents attended one of them, whether it's listed as their school of record or not.

"It appears to have also been attended by Secretary of State Alexander Pierce, of course, three Senators—including Chairman of the Senate Arms Committee Stern—a dozen Congressmen, two of the nine currently seated Supreme Court Justices, and one Air Force General.

"And that's just what we found since you got me into the Helicarrier on Friday, Boss."

“Just what you’ve found in the U.S.,” Darcy added almost too low to hear.

“The World Security Council?” Rhodey asked. “They’re Hydra?”

“Every single one of them, Colonel Rhodes.”

"Is Fury Hydra?" Cap asked.

"Yes, Captain, he is," FRIDAY answered simply. "One of the nine heads, it appears. Hydra considers SHIELD their 'most valuable proactive intelligence asset'. Accordingly, they endeavor to keep one of their own in charge."

"Which rather explains the shitty psych report SHIELD had on file for Stark," May said. "And why Fury made sure to give it to you, Captain Rogers.

"They were playing the long game, in case the Avengers actually got off the ground. They set it up so that we would get _established_ with a wedge between the two key members—you and Stark—that they could exploit any time they decided it was necessary."

"And it kept you isolated from the Stark Family," Coulson added, "which has long been your strongest ally, even while you were missing. Probably _especially_ while you were missing, since they are the only ones that never stopped searching for you."

“Being friends with Stark gives you too many options,” Jack spoke up. “That’s not acceptable if SHIELD’s going to keep their pet Super Soldier on the leash.”

"I realized Fury's evaluation of you was wrong before the Battle was even over," Cap ran a hand over his face. Then he looked at Tony. "I apologize for letting SHIELD cloud my judgement. I never should have said half the things I said to you on the Helicarrier."

"You were angry and confused," Tony shrugged. He had no room for Cap's emo while he dealt with his own, well, _fury_. "It's understandable."

"No, it’s not," Cap countered. "But I'll do my best to earn the trust and friendship you've shown me since the moment we met. And before, in continuing your father’s search for me. You won’t regret it."

-*-

"You're brooding," Clint informed him as he dropped down on the workshop couch beside him.

"I am," he agreed. He had plenty of reason to do so.

His father was assassinated because of something he knew or something he did. That, he could understand. It was horrible but understandable. What he couldn’t understand or accept was that his _mother_ was assassinated just because she was there. She'd never hurt anyone, in fact she helped, no doubt, millions of lives, but her life ended brutally and painfully because she was a witness.

His family's legacy then started getting chewed up and shat out by Hydra. So many people he knew growing up, people close to his father, were either Hydra or assassinated by Hydra. Now there was the implication that Aunt Peg's sudden mental decline was _caused_ by Hydra.

People were murdering others in his company, in his name. People were destroying governments in his name. People were starting wars in his name. People were _selling people_ in his name.

It was infuriating.

"You're never going to get to sleep this angry,” Clint shoulder checked him gently. "And you need to bring your A Game to deal with Fury tomorrow."

Tony scrubbed a tired hand over his face. "And bringing the A Game requires sleep."

Clint just nodded.

"Tell me what you did today," Tony ordered—mostly because he wanted to know, but also for the distraction of it.

"Had a video call with my thesis advisor, Amita," Clint immediately supplied. "She's a recent transplant from California, there was some drama there that I didn’t actually care about. Pretty sure it had to do with realizing the man she wanted was gay.”

Gross.

“Charlie Eppes was her thesis advisor." And that got Tony's attention. Charlie Eppes was someone he would very much like to meet. "Apparently the two of them used to help his brother—who is an FBI Agent—solve a bunch of crimes using math—which on the surface sounds wildly fictional, but I could see how it would work."

"You work for SHIELD," Tony offered wryly. "You're old hat at things that sound wildly fictional but are actually true."

Rewardingly, Clint just laughed and Tony felt something in his chest loosen. "Apparently, the coverage of the team and the battle was—is?—e_xtensive_. My cover as an airline pilot has been blown all to hell. Amita had strong feelings about this."

This time it was Tony's turn to laugh. "What about before that, with Pepper?"

"I don't think she had an opinion on a cover story that allowed me to travel and miss class at random intervals,” Clint tilted his head, playing confused.

Tony poked him in the side.

Clint rolled his eyes and huffed, "I didn't want to like her."

"What?" Tony demanded.

"I didn't want to like her," Clint repeated. "I felt like she let you down when you needed her and I wanted to hate her for it, which I know was juvenile. Your relationship with her is none of my business, but that's how I felt."

"She could never be what I needed," Tony admitted softly, putting the truth into words for the first time ever. It hurt but it also felt good. Freeing.

"No, she couldn't," Clint agreed.

"That's not her fault, though."

"No, it’s not," he agreed again. And then, because he was Hawkeye, the man who saw fucking everything even if he commented on very little, “But it’s not your fault, either. It’s natural. Just because you’re compatible in one area, doesn’t mean you’ll be compatible in all of them.”

Tony just nodded, not quite up to speaking just then.

"She said she knew she could never be what you needed, and that she realized it early on. That you need someone that could draw a line in the sand and defend it, even to the death. Someone that could jump in the super hero trench and fight by your side. That that would never be her, but she thought that just might be me."

Tony could barely breathe because that felt good. Hurt, definitely hurt, but Pepper thinking he'd made a good choice was a gift. Almost as much of a gift as Clint was, just by being himself.

"She's surprisingly nice for the cut throat CEO of a global conglomerate," Clint offered wryly and Tony couldn't help but laugh. "Loves fashion, like, to a scary degree. Knowing that much about men’s fashion—which she doesn't even _wear—_might actually be a psychosis. You need to have her checked."

Tony just laughed harder.

"She is helping me with a surprise for your birthday, so definitely wait for after that, but I mean it. Get her checked."

"She told you about my birthday?"

"That it’s on the twenty-ninth," Clint nodded. "Twenty days from now. She wasn’t sure about having the City Reconstruction Benefit then or not because attending your birthday party would be a big draw. I told her not to. It might be a draw but you're not a product and you shouldn't be used like that."

"Thank you," Tony pulled him in for a kiss. He meant it as a sincere expression of thanks, but then Clint just sort of melted against him and it got very hot and very heavy very fast.

When he pulled back, they were both panting. "How do you feel about hurting me a little, baby?"

"Will you get off on it?"

"Definitely."

"Will I draw your blood?"

"Nope."

Clint smiled brightly. "I'd love to."

Tony stood and leaned his ass against the work station with remnants of the Mark VI. Mostly it was wiring and framework that he hadn't either yet given up on or reused, but there was enough armor to make it very clear that this was Iron Man junk on the table.

"You're going to give me a fantasy," he told Clint as he pulled off his shirt. "Come here, pin me against this thing."

"I assume you mean pin you sexily, not for real, " Clint said as he moved in. When he was about a step away, he moved suddenly, forcibly shoving Tony's hips against the worktop and pinning his hands in place so that he'd have to fight to get away. "Because a real pinning would not be sexy."

"Yeah, no, this is good," he said breathlessly. "Now bite me."

Clint raised one sassy, sexy eyebrow. "Where?"

"My trapezius first. Then, work up along my neck."

Clint ran his nose teasingly along Tony's collar bone. Back and forth and back again, he drifted further from his chest toward his back with every pass. Then. Right when Tony was just about to curse him out for not giving him what he wanted, he set his teeth in the exact perfect place and bit.

"Harder," he ordered.

Clint obeyed and he could feel his body relax as his blood rushed.

"Harder."

Clint obeyed again and it was so good he couldn't stay still. He couldn't.

"That's good, that's good."

Clint immediately let go.

"Again, higher."

Clint moved a little more than an inch along the muscle to the base of his neck and bit again, going directly to the perfect pressure.

Again, Tony couldn't stay still but managed to say, "Enough, enough," before he moved so much Clint ran the risk of drawing blood.

This time Clint dropped his head onto Tony's shoulder and panted for several moments. He'd be concerned about the behavior but he could feel Clint's stiffy pressed right up against his thigh. Looked like his boy was enjoying this as much as he was.

"Again."

"Higher?"

"Yes."

"You won't be able to hide it."

"Good," he purred.

Clint shuddered against him, then set his teeth.

This time when Tony cried, "Stop!" he wiggled a hand free and pulled Clint's pants open. It was so good, he needed Clint to get off, too. And soon.

Clint reached behind him with his now free hand and returned with something he pressed against Tony's hand.

Lube.

He looked up, surprised at Clint.

Clint just gave him that eyebrow wiggle that really, for real serious, should not be attractive. "You're gonna have hickies."

Tony just turned his head to the other side, "Make me match."

Clint made a sound like he'd been struck, quickly helped Tony get his own pants open, and set his teeth in the first position on the other side. He waited, politely but impatiently, for Tony to get his lubed hands around both of their cocks before he bit down.

Tony squeezed them _hard_ but the noise Clint made was not a complaint.

"Stop," he ordered and Clint complied. "Thrust into my hands. Bite me again."

Clint's hands gripped his hips hard enough that they were definitely going to leave bruises, and he started thrusting. Tony loved it.

"Stop." When Clint pulled off this time his eyes were wild and he was panting. "I want you to come when I do. Do you hear me? Come with me, okay?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir."

"Bite."

Clint’s teeth sank in, sharper this time, a little mean, and it pushed Tony right over the edge.

Clint shouted as he came.

Tony let his head drop down to Clint's shoulder and took a good look at their mess on his chest. Perfect.

He was vaguely aware of Clint moving. Tidying up their pants, cleaning his chest, but he didn't care. He felt good, like he could sleep.

"Whoa!" he complained when his feet flew out from under him but strong arms kept him up. They held him steadily, in the air, against a strong chest like he couldn't remember anyone ever doing for him before.

"Sleep, Tony," Clint's voice floated into his ear, "I got this."

-*-

"What's the plan, Tones?" Rhodey asked as he, the Avengers, and SG-1 all crowded into a single briefing room the next morning.

"You're not gonna like it," Tony warned them. "Probably gonna think I'm crazy, too."

"I love it already," Jack drawled, sprawling lazily in his chair. “Let’s hear it.”

Tony took a deep breath. "It boils down to this: There is an alien armada pointed at all of our heads. I saw it through the portal, and I have no doubt that it’s coming right for Earth. Maybe we closed the express lane above the Tower, but it's still coming. That's the end game and _that _matters more than Hydra or industrial espionage or my personal weapons policy.

"The SGC is our best chance of defending against that, so we _cannot_ let anything jeopardize the SGC."

"Meaning what, Tony?" Rhodey prodded.

"Meaning we have to protect SHIELD as much as possible," Phil concluded. "Because, whether we like it or not, SHIELD and the SGC are one and the same now.

"If we go public with the corruption, public with Hydra, best case scenario? SHIELD gets labeled a terrorist organization. All of us will be hunted, no matter our position, no matter our project, or our innocence. Governments all around the world will throw themselves into tearing us apart."

"Throwing the baby out with the bathwater," Jack interjected.

"Exactly. But we can't let Hydra keep," Tony waved, "being Hydra either.

"So, we gotta be quick. We gotta be ruthless. Get everyone arrested and jailed for the horrible things they’ve done without using the H-word. Stomp and scatter the ashes."

"They're not going to let us take them alive," Cap countered.

Tony shrugged, "Then we don't have to worry about taking it to trial."

"What about retaliation? When they realize their number is up—because, realistically, there is no physical way we can get them all at once—they're going to make us pay for it," Rhodey shrugged. "I would."

"If you got a suggestion, spit it out."

"PLATO helped Jack and I place a secure call to General Hammond and we have options."

"You're hedging," Tony frowned.

"I am, let me.

"I know the War Machine helmet records as long as it has power so that, even if I'm knocked unconscious, we can figure out what happened after."

"Yeah," Tony drawled questioningly.

"Does the Iron Man helmet do that too?"

"Of course," he dismissed the notion, not seeing the point. "It's a standard feature."

"Can you show us the recording of the armada you saw?"

Oh. Oh, that's brilliant. "And if I do?"

"We take it to the President and get clearance to strand all those Hydra bastards on the SGC's off-world prison." Jack answered. "On Earth, they inexplicably disappear. No trial, no retaliation, just gone."

"That can't be legal," Cap objected.

"If we have a massive force pointed at our heads? If we have a war coming?" Jack shrugged. "We have to do what we have to do."

"J," Tony called, interrupting the brewing argument.

"Of course, Sir."

The clip started with Cap’s voice, "Stark, that's a one-way tri—" And then it went silent.

And Tony watched in silent horror as he got another good look at an armada so vast it almost entirely blocked out the light of the system's star.

The missile entered the frame from behind his head, flew onward and connected with the front ship. It hit a little to the right but the explosion illuminated the four fingers of the ship clearly as it reached out in an effort to destroy them. As well as at least three other ships just like it. Thousands of Leviathans undulated around them, barely visible, even smaller than ants scurrying around boots. They couldn't even see the speeders the foot soldiers had been rocketing through the portal on at this view distance.

"Huh. JARVIS, freeze frame." The video instantly stopped. Tony stood and manipulated the image to show a ship sort of like a wedge at the top of the frame, but easily filling the same space as three of the four-pronged control ships combined. It was so tall the camera couldn’t catch it all. Tony would guess about a third of the ship was visible? But he was also afraid that that hope was wildly naive. "I didn't notice this big bastard the first time."

"Is the prison planet humane?" Cap asked, which Tony assumed meant he was in but he couldn't actually leave it alone.

"I take that to mean you're in, Cap?"

Steve looked at him, looked back at the frozen video, and then at _all_ of them. "You were right. That is a war," he said, pointing. "That's a war this planet cannot currently win. And we have no idea when it's going to get here.

"We need to go all in. We all do or there's going to be nothing and no one left. We need to build up defenses, make escape routes, early warning systems. We need weapons and ships, preferably to keep the fight _off_ planet as much as possible. We can't have people fighting for the reins—and Hydra would rather the world burn than anyone else rule it.

"So yeah, Tony, I'm in. Let's get this done."

"Tell us about the prison planet," Tony looked to Colonel Jack.

"It's one of our Beta sites," he said immediately. "An uninhabited planet with two continents. On the continent with the stargate, there's a research outpost. Medical and geological for the most part. On the opposite side of the planet, we have ET Australia."

"How do you keep it secure?" Cap asked.

"Long distance and low technology," Jack answered. "Subdermal implants knock the, uh, inmates all out when we drop off new guests.”

"Any monitoring?"

"No monitoring. Well, not beyond the occasional random flybys with long range drones."

"They have to farm for their living, build their own housing, weave their own textiles, make their own pots," Jackson explained. "They don't have _time_ for mischief but it’s not a bad life."

"Biometrically locked X-302s drop off supplies if absolutely necessary," Jack continued. "If there's like a storm or something that destroys their settlement, especially crops. Mostly crops. It's not easy, but they do okay."

Tony considered that. Evicting Hydra from the planet sounded like a winning plan to him, but they'd need to be sure they stayed secure.

Maybe satellite monitoring? He could put an AI on it, just a little one.

And they could separate Hydra around the penal continent. Use the planet’s geography to their advantage.

"I'm assuming you need to show the President the alien threat is real to get the green light."

"Would be best, Tones." Rhodey agreed. "We could do it unofficially, but that could bite us in the ass hard and Hammond is ready to throw down for this. He can be in the air as soon as we give him the green light and we can be presenting this to the President within the hour."

"Who is 'we'? ‘Cause I got plans."

"Me, O'Neill, and Hammond. Coulson would probably be good too, since he has all our intel on the...” Rhodey frowned. “Hydra infection. And because he’s your CEO of SHIELD."

"Yeah, go. Do the thing. J, give 'em a copy to go.

"At some point I'm going to have to talk to the UN Security Council to straighten out the oversight thing. Get Ellison's input on that too while you’re there. Is SHIELD even legal? I mean really? I don’t really care and my lawyers can keep people at bay probably forever, but it would be easier just to cover our asses from go."

"Yes, sir," Colonel O'Neill agreed.

"Who are you taking with you to the Helicarrier?" Clint asked.

"Uh, the Suit Case?"

"Respectfully, sir. You need security. In light of recent information, I've been reviewing your family's security history and it has never been where it should be for people with your level of wealth and social connections."

Tony boggled. "I don't need security, I _am _security. I have the suit."

"The suit you're carrying around by a handle that takes over a minute to put on won't save you from a sniper's bullet."

"Neither will security guards."

"Maybe, maybe not. But if you have a half dozen guys watching for it, it's less likely you'll actually take it."

Tony blinked, "You have suggestions?"

"Try a dozen. We also need to fire half of Pepper's security team, move her residence to a more secure location, and train her in what to do when her bodyguards react to an emergency."

Tony looked at Coulson. Maybe he could explain this— This— Whatever this was.

Coulson just shrugged. "He's a security expert. This is exactly what SHIELD's trained him for."

Tony huffed. Well, the bottom line here really was whether or not he trusted Clint. It probably shouldn't surprise him to find that he did. "You know we're going to have to sell this to Pepper?" was all he said to Clint.

"Not a good enough reason not to do it."

Clint was clearly not seeing the problem. "How are we going to convince Pepper to take what amounts to fighting lessons?"

"I'll make a presentation," Clint offered. "I can train her myself and I can make it non-obvious fighting. She has a workout routine; I’ll just change it in a way that will help her reflexes in the case of an emergency. Have her over for dinner and I'll convince her."

"And her security team?" Tony raised a single eyebrow.

"I can clean that up today, with permission."

"Yeah, you got it."

"Good. Now. Who are you taking with you to the Helicarrier?" When Tony hesitated, he pressed. "We don’t know Hydra’s threat assessment of you so we don’t know when, or if, they’ll decide to go after you. But, you're going to be dealing with a goa'uld so I'd suggest people that can make sure there are no _other_ goa'uld on the Helicarrier."

"Carter and Teal'c, then." He looked at the two in question. "If you're willing?"

Teal'c just inclined his head while Carter smiled, "I'd love to see the Helicarrier, sir."

"And a Quinjet, we're going to have to take one to get here."

She brightened even more and nodded.

"We're going to have some serious recruitment to do," Coulson sighed. "Not just once everyone's arrested and removed from the planet but to _get_ everyone arrested, secured, and removed from the planet."

"Actually," Steve leaned forward, "I have an idea about that."

# Chapter Eight

"Unknown aircraft, identify yourself immediately or you will be fired upon," came tensely over the radio.

Tony supposed he couldn't blame them. Not after what the last unknown aircraft did to the Helicarrier, less than a week ago.

"This is Transport India-Mike-Niner-Niner," he answered. "No arrows on board, I promise."

"Mr. Stark!" the radio operator squeaked. "Uh, sir. You're clear to land on the deck. Will you require a long-term berth, sir?"

"Nah, just here for a brief confab. Be gone before lunch."

"Of course, Mr. Stark. The flight crew is ready for you on the upper deck."

"I see them," he confirmed and turned off the radio. He turned to Carter and Teal'c. Where Coulson had gotten them a pair of SHIELD jumpsuits, Tony really didn't want to know. "How far can you two detect head snakes?"

"I have to touch them," Carter admitted, "but they have to touch me too."

"So, they can detect your former snakey-ness back," he checked because nobody's actually confirmed that for him yet.

"Indeed," Teal'c raised a single eyebrow when Tony turned to him. "I am able to detect an infested goa'uld within thirty yards of myself and within line of sight. Touch is required to verify host status in the event of multiple visible targets."

They set down and Tony focused on his companions. "Fury's office is right down the hall from Coulson's. I want you two to hide in Coulson's until Fury is in the office with me so he doesn't figure out that we're on to him before we get him off planet. Once Thor has him, you can get back on station or whatever."

"Sounds good, sir," Carter agreed.

Tony squinted at her. "Are you any relation to Sharon Carter? By any chance?"

"She's my cousin," Captain Carter confirmed as she held down the button to lower the Quinjet ramp. "Our fathers are brothers."

Tony squinted at her. "And you let her eat Creme Brulee ice cream?"

"With chocolate sauce," Carter shuddered dramatically. "You can't help crazy, sir. Everyone knows Dublin Mudslide is where it's at."

He silently held out a fist. She grinned and bumped it.

Walking through the halls of the Helicarrier almost felt nostalgic, which was weird. He was just here for the first time like a week ago? But he'd gained a lot of miles since then, mentally, emotionally, and physically so it kind of made sense.

FRI silently let the half of SG-1 he had with him into Coulson's office, then she let him into Fury's.

Fury was not there yet.

Perfect, Tony grinned to himself. What would piss Fury off the most?

Tony moved behind the desk and poked through the various drawers. Fury had a laptop in his second drawer. It was a _Dell_. Tony was personally offended.

There was no obvious network card or connections and he didn't want to waste time hacking manually, so he set his phone on the trackpad.

"J?"

"Of course, Sir."

The screen jumped past the login screen in mere seconds as JARVIS started poking around.

"Send a company-wide email telling everyone Clint wasn't at fault for the Invasion and is off limits." Then he stopped and frowned. Would Fury put hidden messages in his emails? Yes, Tony decided, he totally would. "Can you write it like it came from him?"

"Director Coulson anticipated the need, Sir."

First the disguises and now this? "Forget empath, that guy's clearly a precog."

"I believe he simply prefers to be prepared for all possibilities, Sir." The note of approval in JARVIS's voice would make Tony jealous if he didn't know he was JARVIS’s favorite. He was _all_ his kids' favorite, that was just how it was.

Right after Tony approved the email but before JARVIS sent it, FRI's voice piped up, "Boss, he's coming."

"J, keep digging," he ordered as he moved the laptop to where the screen wouldn’t be visible from the door.

Then he pulled their little gift from grey!Thor out of his pocket and kicked his feet up on the desk’s blotter. The door opened and Fury framed himself in the doorway. He sighed in a way that would make Tony regret his life choices if, you know, Tony gave a fuck what a creepy psycho alien thought of him.

"Mr. Stark," he acknowledged as he stepped into his office and closed the door. "You're sitting at my desk."

"Yeah, you know me. Can't help myself."

Fury frowned.

"Found something, thought you'd be interested," Tony handed him Thor's gift. It looked sort of like a lightsaber handle but half-size, just big enough to fill Fury's hand.

"What's this do?" he asked, pointing to the button that was in place of the blade hole.

"Hit it."

Fury stared at him for a long time but Tony didn't give a fuck so he stared right back.

Eventually, Fury hit the button.

A white light filled the room and when it was gone, so was Fury.

"Score one for the home team." Tony raised the roof a little bit. Defeating enemy forces deserved it. "J, send the email. FRI?"

The door clicked open before FRI could respond and Carter leaned in, "Sir, there's a Lieutenant Commander Maria Hill here to see you."

Tony blinked, surprised. "Let her in."

"Respectfully, sir, one of us will need to be in the office with the two of you."

Did that mean she was a goa'uld too or was Carter just embracing her bodyguard role? "Alright, you can come in too."

Carter nodded, entered properly, and waved Hill in behind her.

Hill entered, and frowned at the visible lack of Fury. “I’m here for a meeting with Director Fury.”

“Little Nicky isn’t here. I put him on a...” Tony waved vaguely, “stress leave. Things have been rough for him lately. He needs it.”

“_You_ put him on stress leave?” her eyebrows skyrocketed at that.

“Yeah, turns out I own SHIELD. Who knew?”

Hill abruptly sat down.

Tony shot a questioning look at Carter who shook her head. Not a goa’uld.

“You know, I know you don’t like me—and that’s fine, a lot of people don’t—but I need someone I can trust in charge of SHIELD’s mobile response platform, AKA the Helicarrier. I’d like that person to be you.”

“I don’t dislike you,” Hill disagreed. “I— I thought you were a hypocrite. You were all over the news bragging about how your company doesn’t make weapons anymore while SHIELD was making not just weapons, but weapons of mass destruction and—it made me uncomfortable.”

“I can see how that could happen,” Tony offered cautiously. “FRI are we private?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“The truth is, Commander Hill, that I wasn’t aware SHIELD was part of my company. I honestly thought it was a government agency—and, as it turns out, there’s been a twenty plus year conspiracy to keep me in the dark on that matter since literally the night my father died. But I know now, and I’m doing my best to fix things.”

Hill nodded.

“Part of my plan is to make you an Assistant Director of SHIELD and commander of the Helicarrier, which may become a Helicarrier _fleet_, for reasons I can’t readily disclose to you here. But—” he raised his eyebrows, passing the sentence to her.

“But I can’t become Assistant Director of a private company and maintain my commission in the Navy.”

“No, you can’t. So, you have a choice to make. You can come with me to the Tower, sign your discharge paperwork and be free to accept your new hire paperwork tomorrow. Or I can move on to my next candidate. Your call.”

Hill scoffed, “Honorable discharges don’t work like that. They take—”

He gave her a look and she shut up. This timeline was marching to his tune and they both knew it. Objecting to that, at this point, was just a waste of breath.

“I’ll need to pack a bag, sir.”

“Awesome,” Tony grinned. “I’ll wait here.”

“On a personal note, I understand you have taken a personal interest in, uh, Agent Barton?”

He raised an eyebrow. Because, seriously? Fucking spies.

She held up both hands. “I’m not making a judgement, but you’ll want to talk to Barnabas Hudson before we leave. It would be better for you to go to him than to make him track you down. He’s old and might hurt himself, and Clint would not appreciate that.”

“Who is Barnabas Hudson?”

“He’s the SHIELD quartermaster. Retired, technically, but that hasn’t stopped him from coming in everyday or spending weeks at a time on the Helicarrier. He specializes in difficult equipment needs, never let anyone else make Clint’s bows or arrows.”

“You said this was personal?” he pushed, not seeing the connection.

“He, uh,” she flushed. “I’ve only heard rumors so I don’t know exactly how it started, but he vets all of Clint’s partners. And Clint, uh, dotes on him. Like an aging father. So, I assume that’s just the terms of their relationship.”

“Clint never mentioned him,” Tony tipped his head to one side.

“Hudson came onboard to help out after the Incursion and Loki’s escape. He was out of Manhattan when the Invasion happened, but there’s no way Clint knows that because he’s hiding from SHIELD, which is honestly the smartest thing he could do right now. Clint probably thinks Hudson’s in the city and will show up when he can, but he can’t—and I think after everything that Clint probably needs his _dad_, don’t you?”

“You’re friends with Clint?” Tony guessed.

She smiled softly. “You would not believe the lengths he went through to get me and Nat together. We were so oblivious and pining, it could have been a romcom.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

She looked away from him and was silent for a few minutes. Then she nodded once, accepting.

“Go pack your bag. I have a quartermaster to find.”

“Thank you, sir,” she got up and left.

“How do you feel about taking command of the Helicarrier?” he asked Carter the moment the hatch was closed.

“Me, sir?” she blinked.

“Yeah, consider it practice for your future spaceship or whatever.”

She laughed. “Alright. I assume you have goals for my time here?”

“Your and Teal’c’s time here,” he corrected. “No matter how we market it, this is a weapons platform that can be pointed at literally anywhere on the planet without anyone knowing until it’s already too late. And we already know it’s been compromised. I want you and Teal’c to do your snake check thing on _everyone_ and keep each other alive.”

“How long?”

“One day, two max. Long enough for a spot of clean up.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed.

“And I’ll need to give you one of the Pads from the Quinjet. I want you to review the toys I’m coming up with and tell me how awesome I am.”

She just laughed. “Of course, sir.”

“Now, FRI, where do I find this Barnabas Hudson?”

“Looks like he’s in his office, Boss. Down two levels and all the way aft, on the starboard side of the wishbone.”

Tony frowned, why was FRI using navy terms? That was—

“On the back-right side,” Carter translated like it was automatic. Unnecessary, but considerate.

“Let’s go.”

It was a three-minute walk with Carter in the lead and Teal’c watching their backs.

When Carter went to knock for them, he waved her off. “I get the feeling this is going to be pretty personal; so, uh, let me.”

“Of course, sir,” she nodded and put her back to the bulkhead in the standard bodyguard position. Silently, Teal’c mirrored her on the other side of the hatch.

Tony knocked.

“Enter!”

Tony cautiously peeked in then realized that that was the absolutely appropriate thing to do and slid into the office, opening the door as little as possible.

Inside, he found an office about twice the size of Fury’s. There was the standard desk, with no one behind it, a sitting nook with couch, coffee table, two chairs, and a set of bunk beds along the far wall. Asleep on the lower bunk was a woman that was clearly pregnant even from where Tony was standing on the far side of the room. An elderly man was seated in one of the chairs and another man that was probably a good twenty years his junior was kneeling at his feet.

Both of the younger people were wearing nothing but leather collars, which could not possibly be a good idea in the middle of the Helicarrier, but they didn't seem bothered by it at all.

The look of the two of them both explained what he was doing here but it also confused Tony even more. The female sub had long sand-blonde hair tumbling around her head in a sea of waves. Tony couldn’t see her eye color as they were closed but he had to assume it was blue because the guy kneeling was all slim-hipped and slinky with sand blond hair and blue eyes. He was Clint, basically, if Clint were a swimmer rather than an archer.

“Hello.” Tony walked in and offered the other man his hand. “I’m Tony Stark.”

The man stood. “Mr. Stark, Barnabas Hudson.” He waved Tony to take a seat at the desk’s guest chairs and joined him there when he did. “Everyone just calls me Hudson.”

“Hudson. I admit, I’m not sure why I’m here. Hill recommended I come, and gave me some idea of what was going on, but now I’m confused.”

“That’s fair,” Hudson smiled, looking all grandfatherly. It was bizarre. “I understand Clint took your collar.”

Tony squinted, “How could you know that?”

“He texted me. I assume from a burner phone.” He dug a phone out of his pocket and turned it so Tony could see the screen.

_Took a collar_, the first message said.

Then five minutes later: _No running him off!!_

“Uh, no, that’s his new number. Loki destroyed his old phone while he was, you know, under, and he said he didn’t care about the number, so I replaced it.”

Hudson gave him a pleased nod. “That clarify why you’re here?”

“Somewhat. Mostly, still confused.”

“See, when Clint came to SHIELD, he was a mess,” Hudson shook his head. “The dom that opened him to his submission didn’t teach him Safe, Sane, and Consensual. Clint had no way to express his limits or the knowledge that he could even do so, but he was eager for someone to take him out of his head.”

“You fixed that,” Tony guessed.

Hudson inclined his head, “I did my best.

“That Asshole,” Hudson huffed and shook his head. “I’m not the kind, but even I was tempted to hunt him town and murder him messy. He opened Clint up for some painful stuff and his training was ingrained on Clint hard, but I corrected what I could.”

“The touch thing?”

“Yeah, if he’s collared Clint won’t touch a dominant without his dom’s permission outside of a mission. And he’s pretty reluctant to touch other subs, too. But I don’t know if that’s from That Asshole or just Clint. I tried to train him out of it, but after a while it felt abusive, so I let it go.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

Hudson waved dismissively. “I’m not going to run you off.”

“You’re not?” Tony blinked. “It wouldn't have worked, but can I know why not?”

“Clint asked me not to,” he shrugged. “He’s never done that before. I guess I want to know why.”

Tony got an uneasy feeling about that.

“It’s not the money,” Hudson said absently, his eyes distant.

Tony relaxed, just a bit. “It’s not?”

“There is very little you could buy him that he couldn’t buy himself,” Hudson snorted. “A small island nation, maybe.

“Clint has an extensive skill set and he’s very good at it. The kind of good that you can’t find outside of government employment very often. And when the Marines kicked him out because he was broken, he was a bit reckless about showing the world just how broken he wasn’t. That paid him really well.

“He made a name for himself. Pretty sure he’d still be making a name for himself—if they’d sent anyone other than Coulson after him.”

“Huh,” Tony sat back. “I’ll ask Clint for story time later.”

Hudson just gave him an approving smile.

“If you wanna come by the Tower in a few weeks, you can stay a while. See if you can figure out what you want to know,” Tony offered. “I’d say you could do it now but you’re probably needed here, and things are a little stupid over at the Tower right now.”

“I wouldn’t take Kara where she can’t get medical assistance immediately, if she needed it,” Hudson waved over at the pregnant sub. “Might be a few months, depending on how she delivers and the state of the roads.”

“That’s fair.” FRIDAY dinged his phone, Hill was outside. “Anything else?”

“We’re good,” Hudson stood with him. “For now.

“Ben, dress.” The sub immediately stood at the word of his dom. “Then wake and dress Kara. We’ll be getting lunch after I walk Mr. Stark out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Walk me out?” Tony asked amused.

“Yeah, need people to see us shake hands or the rumors about you and Clint will take a nasty turn,” Hudson said easily. Like that’s _normal._

Which, it kind of was for Tony but there was no press here, just a rumor mill.

A spy rumor mill, he concluded, must be a special kind of ruthless and efficient. Probably why Clint didn’t seem all that worried about the press that hounded Tony’s every move when he was out in public.

“I suppose someone should warn you,” Hudson sighed as they walked down the corridor. “If you or the Avengers get offered the services of Agent Bobbi Morse, codename: Mockingbird—don’t take them.”

“Can I know why?” Tony tilted his head.

“She was Clint’s dom for a while. She, well... It ended badly. And Clint shouldn’t have to kill her because she’s—”

“Difficult and self-entitled?” Tony guessed.

“I was looking for a polite way to say ‘a delusional harpy bitch that can’t handle being rejected’, but that’ll do.”

Tony laughed even though he got the feeling that the real story was _not_ funny.

They made it to the Quinjet and shook hands.

“I’m leaving Carter and Taylor here with you,” Tony told the older man. “They’re going to keep these assholes in line while I brief Hill on her new position. Keep an eye on ‘em, will you?”

Hudson looked them over with a judicious eye. “Those outfits Coulson’s work?”

“Yup.”

“He does good,” Hudson sighed. “Wasted on management, I tell ya.

“I’ll keep ‘em in line. You take care of our boy.”

“Fair trade,” Tony nodded. “See you in a few weeks, Hudson.”

“Until then, Dr. Stark.”

-*-

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupted the snarky little design war he was having with Carter over the secure messaging platform that connected their Pads.

It had been a nice little afternoon, really. Everyone just sort of drifted into his living room not long after he got back from the Helicarrier. Did their own things separately but together.

Bruce was chugging through the biological information Thor had sent him. Apparently, he sent it in binary, which was either a test, an expression of faith in Bruce’s skills—or Thor was subtly trolling the fuck out of them. Tony honestly didn’t know which option he liked better.

Steve was drawing after spending the day working in the city.

Jackson and May were reviewing more intel, making more lists, and gathering more evidence. Apparently, it was not all in English, but the guy spoke twenty-three languages so it wasn’t exactly a hardship for him. May spoke five, so it wasn’t like she was slacking, either. Jackson was just better in the languages department, but she had more analysis training. In the end, she was giving him as much help as he was giving her, really.

Foster was curled up like a pleased little kitten, tucked around the Pad loaded with everything JARVIS could get her from the SGC and Carter’s briefing packet for the scientist.

They probably needed to feed and water her soon.

He looked down at where Clint was seated at his feet. He’d hired a dozen people today, fired three, and was currently evaluating another two for either the chopping block or transfers. After the second one got so mad at Clint’s email that the guy tried to come up here and confront Clint about it, Darcy had sat down next to him and started writing his emails for him.

“Colonel O’Neill, Director Coulson, and Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes have departed the White House,” JARVIS announced. “They are on route back to the Tower.”

“Good. Hey, have them stop by George’s and pick up our order.”

“And what are we ordering, Sir?”

Oh, right. “Uh, everything?” He looked around the room, “You guys like pizza, right?”

“Hell ya,” Clint grinned. And that was it, they were getting pizza.

“Get triple our usual order, J.”

“Of course, Sir.” JARVIS confirmed. “Colonel O’Neill would like me to pass on that Operation Eviction has been approved by President Ellison.”

“Oh, good. Dinner, beam up, and then we get this show on the road.”

“Of course, Sir. The order is placed at George’s and Colonel O’Neill has agreed to play delivery boy as it were.”

“Good work, J.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Darcy huffed from her spot down on the floor and Clint poked her. “What?”

“Operation Eviction is vile,” she frowned. “It’s going to violate the human rights of hundreds, possibly thousands, of people left, right, and center. It’s disgusting.”

“They’re Nazis!” Clint exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention.

“Just because they've abandoned their humanity is no reason for us to abandon ours as well,” she countered.

“We can't leave them where they are,” May objected.

“No, but I’ve read the SHIELD new hire paperwork. Every SHIELD agent agrees to mediation by a tribunal for disputes. Its stretching to apply it to this situation, but we could. SHIELD has precedent for it. We could seat a tribunal privately to review the evidence, possibly interview the suspect and if the tribunal approves it, we send them to ET Australia. It's not exactly true due process, but it's something.”

“What would the tribunal be made of?” Steve asked.

“The agreement with SHIELD specifies a six-member panel. Let's do two cops, two lawyers, two judges. One of each military, one of each civilian, for balance.”

“The President's already approved the plan, though,” Clint objected.

“We are still responsible for what we do while following orders that we know are unlawful. And I will not be responsible for this disaster.”

“Half of Rumlow's reports read like murder confessions,” Clint said. “He's not only shameless about it, he was obviously counting on Fury protecting him and burying those reports. Why try a guy that's already confessed? That makes no sense.”

Darcy shook her head. “Those reports were not written with the intent to be confessions.”

“No, they were written to _brag_,” Clint contested hotly, “and he had to know if they came to light, they would be used against him.”

“After Action Reports are legal documents,” May seconded. “They are his official attestation of what happened in case the matter goes to court or has the be reviewed. They are confessions.”

“How about this,” Tony interrupted. “Anyone that has at least three reports that confess to murder go straight to ET Australia. People with less than three or, you know, understand discretion get reviewed by the tribunal.”

“Who is going to verify these are confessions?” May asked. “There’s got to be some sort of standard.”

Tony blew out a breath, thought about it. “HELEN. She's neutral, she doesn't care about these people one way or another and no one has told her about the Hydra thing. J will give her all the After Action Reports SHIELD has on file. She'll evaluate the reports based strictly on the word usage and legal standards for confessions. She'll then generate a list of agents that have met the standard three or more times. Those people will go right to ET Australia.”

“Uh. Objection,” Clint raised his hand. “You realize that means I'd be going to ET Australia, right? These confessions need to be weighed against the assigned mission and mission objectives. Because I've gone on elimination missions. So have May and Coulson. I've also killed people on protection missions, and I don't beat around the bush in my reports.”

“That’s a good point.” Tony frowned. “So pre- and post-mission reports? Any missions that are thoroughly illegal are thrown out because that shit falls on Fury. Or his passenger, depending on when they got seated. Or whoever in the chain of command pushed it and made it happen.”

“But what about the people that knowingly went on illegal missions?” May countered. “Because you know some agents did missions they knew were illegal just because they wanted to. Because they enjoyed it.”

“We’re skipping a step here,” Tony wiggles a finger at them all. “Operation Eviction only applies to Hydra. Run of the mill assholes will be arrested and tried as close to the normal way as possible.”

“Wait, what?” Darcy looked up at him.

“You heard me. J’s been prepping evidence packages for the FBI from the beginning. I mean, I know they aren’t technically government agents, but generally their crimes cross state and sometimes country lines, so the FBI has jurisdiction.”

“Alright,” Darcy frowned. “That’s less horrible than I thought it would be.” But she was still clearly not pleased.

The elevator dinged and their three travelers returned. The Colonels were carrying pizza boxes while it looked like Coulson got the drinks.

He set a six pack of long necks on the coffee table in front of Clint.

“Clint’s favorite,” he told Tony.

When Clint looked up at his for permission, he held up a single finger. Clint took his one beer with a grin and popped the top off. _By hand_.

“What’s wrong?” the empath asked the room.

“Not all of us are okay with ignoring the law and throwing away people’s human rights,” Darcy answered sourly.

Jack and Rhodey exchanged a look. Rhodey sighed and Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. “Guys, Patriot Act. The President consulted with the Attorney General once JARVIS verified that she’s clean and she verified it’s legal. All we have to do is prove they're Hydra and their gone.”

“There are many ways for us to do that.” Rhodey stepped in. “If they have a suicide tooth, if they are on Hydra's employee log in any way—like, say, they attended Hydra school, tattoos, hell, we could ask!

“And it’s not like we're killing them,” Jack concluded. “They're just being temporarily relocated.”

Darcy huffed, “I don't approve of the Patriot Act.”

“Yeah, well, Congress did so it’s all legal,” Jack countered.

“What about trials? What about due process?”

“They are murderers.” Jack said seriously. Like, scary seriously. “They are traitors. They are terrorists. If I had it my way, I'd put bullets in them and save us all a whole lot of effort.”

Darcy was not deterred. “They're still human! They still have rights, like that of a fair trial.”

“They'll get it after,” Jack dismissed her concern.

“After?”

“Yeah, you know, after the Invasion.”

“And if they don't?”

“Then we're all dead and they'll be living longer, safer lives on ET Australia than we did here on Earth.”

“I can't believe you,” Darcy shook her head in disbelief and looked to Tony.

Jack looked to him too.

Right. This was his show.

“I agree with both of you, actually.”

“This is _Hydra_,” Cap interjected scathingly. “They would rather the whole world burn than let someone else rule it or, in this case, save it. If we let them stay, they will sabotage us at every turn. They'll drag everything out. Waste time we already _don't_ have.

“In fact, they'd probably welcome an alien invader. They’d see it as a shortcut to power, assuming they can pick up the Earth's pieces _after_.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “As much as I hate to say it, the needs of the many and all that. Dropping them on another planet like this is, basically, remanding them without bail—which is what the Patriot Act allows. So, we'll stick with Jack’s plan, and when our invaders are nothing but dust and ashes, Darcy can lead the charge to get them all fair trials.”

“And I will,” she nodded once. Not agreeing, just accepting.

# Chapter Nine

Tony woke up all but vibrating with energy. Or that could be, he woke up with his hair being petted by his sub.

Who was sitting up in bed, reading on a pad.

"What are you doing up there?" he tried to ask grouchily.

Clint just grinned down at him. "Are you ready to go into _outer space_?"

It had been a disappointment last night when Thor made them wait a day for beam up. It made sense, really. They'd had a long ass day already. Tony had some toys to finish up before they were ready to take on Hydra, Clint had wanted to firm up Pepper's security before they left the planet, and Thor was waiting for representatives of the High Council to adjust to new bodies.

Which was a fucking weird thing to say with a straight face, but there it was.

But... _Space!_

"Get down here," Tony ordered, tugging his sub's hip.

Clint came easily, maneuvering himself so he was laying on his side.

Kissing Clint was the best thing. He kissed, every time, like he had nothing else to do and nowhere else he'd rather be. It made Tony want to return the favor, because being the subject of that focus was the most decadent thing he'd ever felt and Clint deserved _all_ the nice things.

"So," he said pulling back. "Space? It's every little boy's dream, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Clint said almost sadly as he snuggled in under Tony's chin. "But some of us learn to stop dreaming early."

Which, fair. Tony certainly had, but, "Well, who could have dreamed this anyway? Living at the top of the tallest tower in New York City?"

"In a ridiculously decadent penthouse," Clint added. "Regularly flying around in the world’s most advanced _stealth_ jets."

"With a partner that gets me, fits my every sexual desire. Even the ones I didn't know I wanted."

Clint clung to him a little harder, his breathing was picking up because _praise_. "Being super heroes," he offered breathlessly. "Saving the world and working side by side with actual aliens."

Tony pulled back to look at him. "Do you know how amazing you are? So strong, you overcame Loki's bullshit and pulled it out to save the world. So smart, your thesis is like math porn. And when you graduate, I'm going to be in the crowd making sure everyone knows that I am so fucking proud of you.

“I’m so proud that you’re mine,” Tony could feel Clint's erection against his thigh. "You manage Pepper like you've been doing it all your life. You keep her safe, Clint. You keep me safe, make me _feel _so safe. You're so good."

Clint let out a very good kind of sob.

"My good, beautiful boy. You fit with me and in my life like I never could have imagined. You're a gift. My absolute perfect gift."

"Sir!"

"There you are, my good boy. Come for me."

Clint shuddered and came untouched in his sleep pants. Tony felt justifiably smug about this.

"I met Hudson yesterday," he offered absently as he pulled Clint against his chest.

Clint groaned and glared at Tony half-heartedly for making him brain—no, for making him think—but went easily enough.

"He wants to come visit. I told him to give us a few weeks for things to calm down."

"You don't mind him visiting?"

"No. He can't expect you to submit to him or anything like that, but he can visit whenever. Hell, we can give him your floor, if you really want."

"Nah,” Clint shook his head against Tony’s chest. “Hudson wouldn't be comfortable living somewhere he doesn't own. He can handle a couple weeks of it, but his control issues are pretty intense."

"I noticed," Tony agreed dryly and Clint just laughed. "I'm assuming Kara's baby is his?"

"Oh, yeah. He couldn't tolerate his submissive having a child he doesn't have parental rights to."

"He seems so laidback on the surface, but he's really intense."

"You have no idea, sir," Clint shook his head again, then he looked up at Tony’s face. "Do you want me to get you off, sir?"

"Oh, you're going to suck me off in the shower, and then you're not going to get to come again. Not for hours." He wanted to say 'not until we're back on Earth' but he doesn't want to make a liar out of himself later.

Clint just groaned and nodded. "I look forward to it, sir."

“Hey, J?” Tony called out as he urged Clint out of the bed.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Go ahead and order in. Clint’s going to be in no shape to cook breakfast for anyone this morning.”

Clint groaned again, but didn't argue.

“Of course, Sir.”

-*-

Beaming up to an alien spaceship didn't feel like anything. No weightlessness, no coming to pieces, no burning, no stretching, much to Tony's disappointment. He knew intellectually that he should probably be relieved, but still!

Just, one moment he was standing in his penthouse living room. The next, he was standing on a strange, clean, alien command deck.

Instead, his view of the city, he had a one hundred eighty-degree panoramic view of space. Most of which was taken up by _Jupiter_. Christ, the storm was huge. He knew that, could quote the actual dimensions of it, but staring it in the face in real time made all of that extremely difficult. It was just—

"Tony," Clint said softly but urgently, tugging his hand.

There was a spaceship that looked just like the pictures he'd seen of Thor's ship standing like a shining silver beacon in the black. As he watched, a second ship _dropped out of hyperspace_ and took up a position beside the first. It was markedly bigger than the first, or theoretically, than the one they were on—which he hadn’t personally seen from the outside—and much more obviously armed.

That was a warship.

There was the weird elevator-whoosh noise of beaming and two columns of light resolved into two more Asgard in their weirdly plastic thrones. One was a slightly pinker Thor, the other was whiter.

"Representatives of the Tau'ri," Thor intoned gravely, "meet the Representatives of the High Council."

"I am Tyr," Pink announced.

"I am Eir," came from White. She sounded thoroughly feminine, but physically looked no different from the other two which was interesting. "We have come to assist our allies, the Tau’ri, in missions of great importance to our continued alliance."

"Awesome," Tony stepped up to the proverbial plate. "I'm Tony. These are the Avengers—Clint, Steve, May, Coulson, Bruce. That’s SG-1—Colonel O'Neill, Captain Carter, Teal'c, and Dr. Jackson. Darcy, Jane, and Colonel Rhodes are all part of this endeavor for Earth as well."

"Well met," Tyr greeted them all. "Let us separate into teams relevant to our duties. I will be aiding in the hunt for Hydra."

"Then you get Steve, May, Coulson, Jack, Darcy, and Rhodey." Tony nodded to Clint, who handed off the briefcase he was holding to Jack. "I made some toys that should help. Beaming beacons and such."

"Very well," Tyr hit some buttons on his chair and he and his team disappeared.

"I will be working with Dr. Banner on my people's cloning issues," Eir said. "However, I feel it would be most effective for us to work here, in case you need assistance removing the goa'uld from its host."

"Your assistance is most welcome, High Healer," Thor agreed.

"Where _is_ Fury?" Tony asked.

Thor hit a button and Fury appeared. He was suspended, asleep or maybe in a coma, between two blurred webs of light. One from above, one from below.

"How precise is your beaming tech, exactly?" Tony asked, suddenly inspired.

Thor—somehow, without any actual eyebrows—raised an eyebrow.

-*-

"So, we just need to mark the targets for you to beam up?" Rhodey asked.

"Correct.” Tyr inclined his head. “Once marked, I will beam the subjects directly into data crystals similar to the internal structures within the Stargate. Keeping them in data packets effectively puts the subject in suspended animation. They will not fight, they will not eat, they cannot escape."

"On Earth, blink, not on Earth."

"That is an accurate summation of events from their perspective, Agent May."

"Can you alter the data packet?" Darcy asked. "Hydra is rather famous for having poison pills planted in their teeth to prevent capture."

"Now, you wouldn't be proposing we violate their body autonomy without their consent," Jack drawled. "Would you, Lewis?"

She glared at him, "I'm trying to protect them. Make sure they make it to trial."

"We don't have the legal right to alter their bodies. They chose to have those implanted and it’s their right to make that decision for themselves."

"You just want them all to commit suicide and save us from trials later."

Jack shrugged, "Pretty much, but that doesn't change facts. And if you think they need poison teeth to commit suicide, you obviously don't understand how fragile the human body is."

"We aren't altering them," Coulson cut off the argument. "We are beaming them up, changing locations, and beaming them down. That's it.

"Now, how do we tag them?"

"Tony gave us toys," Rhodes backed Coulson up with the moving them on thing. "Let’s see what we got."

A column silently rose up from the floor and Jack set the briefcase upon it.

He opened the case and picked up a weird little tube. "Huh, looks like a laser sight." He pointed it at Steve and a barely visible blue light appeared in the center of the Captain's chest.

"My scanners are picking up the signal," Tyr confirmed. He hit a few buttons and Cap disappeared from his spot only to reappear across the room.

"It works," Jack concluded.

Rhodey pulled a little ointment jar out of foam support tray. "This is actually Carter's," he said. "She showed it to me the other day. A biological radio marker.

"Put some on and your body heat activates it," he rubbed a stripe on his palm. "Shake someone's hand, the exposure to their body heat changes the chemical signature so that it can be detected by Asgard scanners." He shook Cap's hand. "It should stay active on the target for 24 hours."

Cap rolled his eyes good naturedly as, again, he was picked up and beamed across the room.

"I have seventy-six similar signatures in one location on Earth. Their location appears to be mobile."

"That would be the Helicarrier." Coulson concluded. "Carter and Teal'c must have marked them all while they were on duty there yesterday."

Tyr hit several buttons, "All seventy-six signals are now in storage."

"So now we just have to glad-hand or laser mark all the remaining Hydra we know of?" Cap asked.

"Right," Coulson nodded. "My only concern is getting close to Secretary Pierce. The Senators and such all have offices with big windows. Getting them where no one knows about it will be relatively simple. But Peirce is much too security conscious for that."

"And he'd recognize any of us if we got close and immediately be suspicious," Jack frowned.

"Sounds like we need someone nobody knows," Rhodey speculated. "Friendly enough to set Pierce at ease, smart enough not to raise any of his flags, and able to blend so he's not suspected at all after."

"And you can just pull someone like that out of your pocket?" Jack asked sardonically, "Just like that?"

"Yeah, actually," Rhodes grinned, "I can."

-*-

"Secretary Pierce, Secretary Peirce," Sam called, racing up to catch the man in question before he could disappear into the back of a limo. "Secretary Peirce, just a moment. Please."

"Let him through," a gruff voice ordered, and the big bastards in front of him parted.

"Secretary Pierce, thank you," he panted like he was breathless and put on his best company smile. "I just wanted to say, I am an Air Force veteran and I, uh, had a close encounter with your special para-rescue squad?" he offered like he wasn’t sure how to talk about his own EXO-7 FALCON squad.

"I understand," Peirce assured him.

"I just wanted to say thank you. So many politicians don't seem to remember, or even know, what it's like to be on the front lines and," he held out his hand to shake. "I can tell you with absolute certainty that I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for your efforts on our behalf.

"So, thank you."

"That's good to hear, son," Pierce took his hand and shook it. "Anyone we can bring home, that's exactly what we want to do."

"Thank you, sir. It doesn't make being out there any easier but it does put my mind at ease to know people like you are watching out for people like me."

"Of course, son. Now, I really must be going. Budget talks—"

"No, no, that's fine," Sam let him go and stepped back. "Congress waits for no one. I just wanted a minute, to say thank you."

Peirce nodded and climbed in the limo.

Sam Wilson watched until Peirce was out of sight, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away.

About two blocks later, his phone rang, "Wilson."

"It's Rhodes. Good job, man."

"You gonna tell me what this shit was about?" he demanded as he slid into an alley and ducked behind a dumpster. He pulled out the little spritzer bottle and removed the _whatever_ that Colonel Rhodes had asked him to use with prejudice.

With any luck, it would take the layer of skin Peirce touched off too. He’d never had any desire to pet a snake before, but he was pretty sure that was exactly what he’d just done.

"Yeah, you private?"

"Well, I'm alone. This line isn't secure or anything though."

"Not a problem, hang on just a second."

Then a white light filled his vision and the world disappeared. When the light cleared, he was staring through a window, looking down at _the Earth._ "What the—"

"Welcome to SHIELD," a monotone voice said behind him.

He spun around to see a half dozen humans and an honest to god alien clustered together. He didn't know who he should stare at more, Captain America or the Roswell Gray.

He glared at Colonel Rhodes instead, "This is your explanation?"

"It's worth your time, I promise."

"Well, I got class in two hours, so get on with it."

-*-

"Okay, so the Carters are going after the Supreme Court Justices?" Tony checked, reading over their plans for tomorrow.

"Our Great Aunt Peggy was close friends with Ruth Bader Ginsburg," Captain Carter explained. "It wouldn't be strange for us to take her to lunch while I'm in town."

"Okay," Tony agreed. "And Jack and Teal'c took Cap and Clint to get the, uh, Legislative Branch bastards in their homes tonight."

He was not a fan of Clint being out in the field without him. He knew the guy had been going out in the field without him for his entire adult life and that he himself was not the kind to be a sniper’s spotter anyway. He just didn't have those specific skills and he was too recognizable. That didn’t make being left behind any less grating. With a sigh, he gave in and checked the locator beacon on Clint’s collar one more time.

"Yes, sir. And your, uh, _kids _are keeping an eye out to see who reacts and how. We'll poke our noses into anyone that behaves oddly."

"That's one way to track down the rest of the conspiracy." Tony agreed. "Hermiod said the changes to the transporter should be done by tomorrow so we can get that thing out of Fury and hopefully get his insider intel which should help."

"Are you going to be able to get it in one piece?" Darcy asked.

"Not without severe risk to Old Nicky Poo's grey matter," Tony shook his head. "We decided his health was more important. The snake will probably come out in three pieces."

"It's not like we have the ability to talk with unhosted goa'uld anyway," Jackson added. "And questioning a hosted one is the most pointless thing ever done.

“Was I the only one tickled by Hermiod's reaction to _Clint_ doing _math_?"

Tony laughed. "No, it was great."

"And then he started muttering," Carter offered and they all laughed together. "You'd think after working with Jack for so long they'd realize humans have hidden depths, but apparently not."

"Even the smartest sentient beings can be really dumb sometimes," was Tony's conclusion.

Several people in the room—other than Bruce and Foster, who were still neck deep in their respective projects—nodded. Which was hilarious since just about every single one of them counted as a genius in one way or another.

"So, tomorrow," Tony stretched. He should go to bed but fuck sleeping without Clint—Clint, who knew and understood PTSD, and didn't get furious when Tony woke him up screaming. Clint, who has woken up screaming once himself and let Tony help, which was new and different for Tony—at his side. "We free Little Nicky, get his insider intel on Hydra, and retrieve Loki from wherever they put him."

"And from Loki we get insider intel on that armada that god knows who has pointed at Earth," Darcy agreed.

Tony blinked; he hadn't even thought about that. He'd been too focused on getting Loki back for Thor's sake, because they'd promised.

"What else? Bruce, how's the Asgard Body Project going? What do we know?"

"We know they have three biological sexes," Bruce answered, scratching the back of his head without looking up, “which is fascinating. They call them Alpha, which is the first letter of their alphabet; One, the first counting number; and Ultraviolet, which is the first color they can see on the spectrum as measured by wavelength."

"That's cool," Darcy observed. "So, they're all like, equal, but still different."

"Yes," Bruce agreed, "The Asgard language does not use pronouns at all, but in English she, he, or they are appropriate. Tyr and Thor are he’s, Eir is a she, and Hermiod is a they. The third is actually the rarest gender, but the Asgard cannot reproduce without them. Because while the Ones carry sperm and Alphas carry children, the Ultraviolets add a third substance I've never seen before to _mix_ the genetic soup to make it grow into a new Asgard, basically."

"Plan?" Tony prompted.

"Whatever we do will have to be multiphasic. First, we stabilize the bodies they are using, or make new stable bodies to transfer them to that are still in line with their genetic heritage. This will probably take a few phases itself, actually. And testing, because we are creating new genetic templates at this point for them to clone off of.

“We also have to consider that the shock of going from sick to healthy could kill them or make them crazy. Which, obviously, we want to prevent at all costs.”

“So slow but steady,” Tony supplied and Bruce just nodded.

"From there we can improve the new template bodies as needed, which is something it sounds like they used to do a lot anyway but these will be _necessary _changes. Restoring their fertility, increasing physical heartiness, and the like.”

“Once they’re stable, they should probably ban unnecessary genetic changes,” Darcy frowned. “If that’s what’s almost driven them to extinction now.”

“That’s for later,” Bruce shook his head. "For now, Eir, JARVIS, and I are working on cleaning up their genetic code. There's a lot of _crap_ going on there that I don't understand."

Tony tipped his head to one side, "Like, deliberate crap? Or too much inbreeding crap?"

"Deliberate crap," Bruce sighed. "If I didn't know better, I'd think they were deliberately sabotaged."

"Well, fuck," Tony picked his Pad back up and started looking at the highlighted faulty sections. "This… This looks like goa'uld DNA."

Bruce froze and finally looked up at him, blinking owlishly. "Goa'uld DNA?"

"The Asgard as people tend to clone and improve their bodies," Jackson frowned. "You said it yourself. It's been implied they do this for the betterment of their people. Goa'uld have genetic memories. What do you want to bet the Asgard tried to gain this ability?"

"But that could never work!" Bruce objected hotly. "Goa'uld are carbon-based life like humans and Asgard are silicon-based. The modifications necessary to make the combination of genes responsible for such a desired trait biologically compatible would either destroy the sought-out benefit or unbalance the entire system, leaving it unstable."

"Which is pretty much exactly what's happening," Tony told the room, and they all shared a moment of horrified silence.

"I remember thinking genetic memories would be badass but I couldn't imagine a humane way to make it actually _work_ in humans much less in—" Tony waved a hand vaguely upward where at least one Asgard ship should be hovering invisible above them. “But, then, we don’t pop in and out of bodies like they do. So, I can see how they’d want to try.”

"Why would you want genetic memories?" Darcy scrunched her nose.

"Imagine how much more advanced my science would be, my tech would be, if I knew everything my father did. I wouldn't have to learn it again; I could just build on it."

"Imagine how stagnant your culture would be if we all lived in our parents’ and grandparents’ choices," she countered.

"That does rather explain the goa'uld," Dr. Jackson agreed.

"Why they use the same tactics over and over, even when they've clearly stopped working," Carter seconded.

"They depend on their human slaves for art and music. I always assumed they just didn't want to waste time that could be spent gathering power on such things but what if they actually _can't_ create it?" Jackson asked. "Because, to them, it's all been done before and they can't see how to make it new or different."

"Clearly, genetic memories are not the best choice," Tony cut Jackson off before he could take off with the bit in his teeth. "J, strip all the goa'uld bits out of the Asgard genetic data. Run the remaining model, see if it works."

"Working," JARVIS announced.

"It kind of explains the Asgard color patterns," Darcy added absently. "If you think about it, the patterns and glossiness are kind of goa'uld-y."

"Well, you're not wrong," Tony agreed wryly.

"The render is complete," JARVIS said and projected a rotating model in the middle of the coffee table.

"They're taller," Bruce observed.

Tony nodded. "Thicker limbed and more proportionate."

"Their colors are definitely more vibrant," Darcy noted, amused. And she was right. The color variations wouldn't be out of place in _dragons_; gold, silver, bronze, red, coal black, linen white, ocean blue, and on.

“Snoutier,” Tony noted, totally bipedal dragons. “Why did they lose the frill? Goa’uld have frills.”

"Three-digits on hand and foot, though," Bruce noted distractedly, “rather than the five they have now.

“Longer and I would argue more useful than their current arrangement, though.” Jackson countered.

"So, this is your first step proposal to Eir?" Tony checked.

"I think so," Bruce tipped his head to the side. "The spine is still long enough that the wrong materials would leave the subject with long term issues. And the hips are much too small for childbearing, which they do in a similar fashion to humans. There are other issues but I can’t," Bruce huffed and stood. "I'm going to bed. I need to think on it before we propose it and I'm just sort of spinning on nowhere right now."

"Good plan." May stood as well with Coulson a beat behind her. "We have a lot to do in the morning."

"Don't you ruin my sub's breakfast in the morning," Tony pointed a warning finger at her, "You can't even imagine the revenge I'll get on you if you do."

May laughed, "I'm making my mother in-law's cinnamon rolls. No cantaloupe, no blueberries, I promise. Clint will be pleased, and I'll probably have to make a whole pan just for Steve."

"Everyone wants their own pan of mom's cinnamon rolls," Coulson smirked.

May waved him off. "And for the record, I am much more afraid of Clint's revenge than I ever could be of yours, Stark. The one time I pissed him off?" she shuddered.

"What did he do?" he asked, both horrified and curious.

"He waited—a whole _month_—until the team was sent on a mission without him. Then he broke into my apartment and tie dyed every single item in my closet. Shirts, pants, socks, bags. Everything."

"Didn't think solid leather boots could be tie dyed," Coulson added. "I was wrong.

"He didn't tie dye your dad's jacket, though."

"No," May huffed. "He didn't tie dye my dead father's _irreplaceable_ leather jacket. He just stole it and wore it every day until I tracked him down and begged for it back. He made me tell an entire gym full of cadets that he's the most amazing and forgiving human being alive and that there is no other sniper I would ever, ever, ever prefer to have my back in any situation ever. It was humiliating.

"And the jacket still smells like him! That was three years ago!"

Tony just laughed. "What did you _do_?"

"You'll never know," she glared and pointed at him. "I swore him to secrecy. We who know are taking it to the grave."

-*-

"In other news, the number of mysterious disappearances swells today as the FBI confirms that Senator Maxwell Stern of Virginia has gone missing from his home just moments after dining with his wife last night in their Washington DC home.” The blonde woman's look of concern looked more like frustrated constipation than anything else as she turned to a different camera. “According to police, the property’s security system was not disturbed and no visitors were reported by the community’s guards.

“As you may recall, CNN reported to you yesterday that Secretary of Defense Alexander Pierce had mysteriously vanished as well from his office where he was supposed to be eating a private lunch between budget talks with the Senate.

"The White House urges everyone to remain calm and allow investigators to do their jobs, but this reporter has to admit that the number of missing is alarming.” The screen morphed into a blue screen with two boxes on it. The blonde remained on the left, but now she was joined by a popular male correspondent on the right. “So far, the missing include Brigadier Generals Marianne Hale and Dallas Fischer of the United States Air Force, Colonel Samuel Johansson of the United States Marine Corps, Senator CJ Anderson of Tennessee, and Senator Julia Jackson of North Dakota. Those are, of course, in addition to Senator Stern and Secretary Pierce.

“Coop, should the American people be concerned?"

"To put it simply, yes," the white-haired man nodded emphatically. "CJ Anderson is a ranking member of the Senate Intelligence Committee and Julia Jackson is a member of the Senate Judiciary Committee. To have them both missing at the same time is highly suspicious.

"Now to add to that Senator Stern is the _Chairman_ of the Senate Arms Committee? And we have not only three high-ranking officers from two different armed services missing, but the Secretary of Defense is missing too?"

He paused and shook his head. "I'm telling you now, Chelsie, this is our democracy _under attack_."

Clint snorted and clicked the television off. "They are going to lose their damn minds when they realize about ten percent of Congress is gone too."

"And then again when another five percent start going up on charges for the crimes that SHIELD’s been covering up for _years_ in exchange for favors." Tony shook his head.

"And don't forget the former-Congress people turned Lobbyists," Clint laughed. "Any lawyer worth a damn will request closed trials, and that will drive these idiots crazy. They are going to assume they had something to do with the disappearances and tell everybody about their involvement as if it was fact."

"I wonder if we can turn this into a conspiracy that will kill the Republican Party," Tony mused.

"Wouldn't take much." Clint stepped between his legs and draped his arms over Tony's shoulders. "Are you ready for this?"

Tony blew out a breath and snuggled into Clint's stomach. His sub just pulled him closer, almost sliding him off the bed, so Tony stood and turned the embrace into a proper hug.

"Yeah, I am. I did the math, you did the math, PLATO did the math. Hermiod altered the device. Eir and Thor checked it all over. It's good. We're good. Let's do this thing."

They walked out of the bedroom hand in hand to find the entire crew waiting on them. Clint held out his hand to Darcy, who grabbed Steve's hand, and then connected with Clint. Steve connected Captain Carter, who connected with Bruce, who connected with Jane until they were all holding hands in a circle with Jackson on Tony's other side.

"JARVIS."

"I shall inform Supreme Commander Thor you are ready to depart, Sir."

Seconds later white light filled the room, when he blinked, they were back on Thor's ship.

"Why was that necessary?" Jack groused even as he released Jackson's hand with obvious reluctance.

"Team solidarity," Clint snarked.

"Yeah," Darcy nodded. "It's a thing," and the two subs fist bumped. Dr. Jackson grinned at them and Tony and Steve shared amused looks behind their partners' backs.

"If we are ready to begin?" Thor asked.

"Yup," Tony clapped his hands and scrubbed them together. Asgard ships were a little cold. "You got Fury?"

Thor turned, doing an honest-to-god Vanna White hand gesture.

As they watched, the gently spinning Fury stilled. Then he was moved again, this time to the exact position the scans, measurements, and calculations were all done in the previous day.

"So, you guys are going to port out the snake and then release him, right?" Clint checked. "He'll be all walking and talking and bossing again?"

Since he knew Clint knew how this was going to work, Tony just raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that a problem?"

"I don't know, it's kinda nice having him like this,” Clint scratched the back of his head faux sheepishly and Tony grinned. “Like a modern gothic man statue."

"You know he can hear you, right?" Jackson asked over the laughter. "It's only the symbiote that's completely disabled in this state."

"Oh, well," Clint shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Not like he's my boss anymore."

Jackson just laughed at him.

"Colonel Fury is now disabled as well," Eir corrected him and they watched as his good eye fell closed. "It is time for the procedure. Hermiod?"

"Yes, High Healer," his hands did that creepy glide thing over the keys. It didn't look like he was actually hitting anything, but he must have been because the systems reacted to his every movement. "First, we will capture the portion imbedded in Colonel Fury's brain. This will kill the parasite. At least temporarily."

Tony would almost think that was a _joke _but he knew that with enough time spent inside healthy biological tissue, it was entirely possible that the symbiote could find a way to evade permanent death.

Three pedestals rose from the deck. There was an electronic hum and a goa'uld head complete with frill appeared on the first pedestal.

"No visible gray matter," Tony confirmed.

Bruce poked it with an unclicked pen and nodded his agreement.

"Motor and nervous control section," Hermiod announced and the electronic hum sang out again.

A long, surprisingly thick and kind of lumpy section appeared on the second pedestal.

"His back issues must have been _intense_," Bruce muttered, looking a little green. Not like Hulk green though, more going to hurl green.

"We'll hook him up with a chiropractor," Tony promised. "Once he's clear."

"Lung and heart control section," Hermiod announced, ignoring the byplay.

The system hummed one last time and a long, pointy goa'uld tail showed up on the third pedestal.

"I don't see any organ tissue," Bruce tipped his head to one side.

"No blood," Tony agreed. "That's a good sign."

"And the parasite samples appear to be in complete sections." Bruce continued. "No missing or damaged skin outside of the intended incisions. All fins appear to be intact."

"The patient scans free of parasitic tissue," Eir confirmed. "None of his biological systems appear damaged outside of the one eye which appears to be a very old injury. There are signs of strain on his shoulders, neck, and spinal column. The patient will awake in pain."

"But he'll wake up," Coulson double checked.

"That is correct."

"Let's see it," Tony ordered.

The light shifted Nick to a seated position, and yet another column rose out of the floor. This one was bigger than the others and shaped itself to cradle him on three sides while leaving his feet on the floor.

The light faded and Nick opened his eye.

He looked pissed off, as always, but there was something different about it now. Something, maybe not kinder, but distinctly more human.

He glared at them all. "Get this motherfucking tooth out of my goddamn head!"

# Chapter Ten

"Her name was Maeve," Fury said, staring almost meditatively at the _pieces_ of his former captor. "She was the third queen to rebel against Ra's rule of Earth.

"First was Egeria, Mother of Traitors."

"Traitors?" Jackson interrupted immediately to question.

"Egeria. She spawned those that would come to be known as the Tok'ra."

Jackson just nodded.

"Then came Hathor the Fool."

"We met her," Colonel Jack added faux-cheerfully.

Fury quirked his lips in a not-quite smile. "She was furious to realize you found Hathor before she did and let her escape. She wanted to add her to her Hall of Fools."

"Hall of Fools?" Jackson questioned.

"Every goa'uld or queen Maeve was able to find on Earth. She took them out of whatever was holding them, including hosts, and put them in a giant freshwater aquarium." Fury smirked like he was remembering something funny, but the expression didn't linger.

"She would go there to gloat. We should probably go feed them soon. Or kill them. Whatever. But it's been a few days and I'd prefer it if we killed them on purpose rather than by accident through neglect."

"We'll get right on that," Jackson agreed wryly. "Uh, who? Does she have? Or is, uh, in her collection?"

"Well, Sekhmet was first. Napoleon had a bunch of her shit, including her canopic jar. The Nazis got it from his collection, so Hydra had it. They'd managed to figure out some of it, but not all, and Maeve claimed it for herself.

"They found Marduk somewhere in Russia. Hydra recognized the sarcophagus and sent him and his little buddies to her too.

"Osiris and his queen Isis were found in canopic jars in the Congo, of all places.

"But the weird one—the really fucking weird one was Egeria. She was located at a Stonehenge-like structure way up in bumfuck Greenland. They found her canopic jar _inside_ the altar stone when it cracked."

"Egeria?" Carter blinked. "You have Egeria? The Tok'ra queen?"

"Well, technically Meave did, but I'm the only one that can access them," Fury crossed his arms. "Why?

"The Tok'ra are our allies," she answered. "My father blended with the symbiote Selmak when he was dying of cancer. She saved his life."

"And you want to, what? Return their queen to them?"

"Can we really keep her?" Tony asked, tipping his head to one side. "She's their queen. Their, what… Their mom? Friends don't take friends moms from them. Pretty sure that's a rule."

"Goa'uld don't have allies and they don't make friends," Fury frowned. "They use people for their purposes and abandon or murder them when they get _bored_."

"Tok'ra aren't goa'uld, though," Jackson objected. "They find it highly insulting to be called goa'uld, actually."

"They can get insulted all they want,” Fury scoffed, “but a spade’s a spade."

"They've been helpful," Colonel Jack tried. "Not much for combat but they know all the players. Intel's usually good."

Fury glared hotly and Darcy waved her arms.

"Guys! We have drifted wildly off subject. Fury was telling us about the queens. He was up to Meave."

She pointed at him and he nodded.

"Maeve was the third queen to rebel against Ra on Earth. She had learned from her sisters' mistakes, but she was betrayed. Her mate, Allili, had fallen to human vices. On the eve of the coup, deep in his cups, he _bragged_ about the plan. To a spy.

"Maeve was captured, dragged out of her host and canned. Her mate and forces, slain. She swore she would get revenge."

"Director—" Coulson started.

Fury cut him off with a glare. "Colonel. I was never Director of SHIELD, she was. I was barely even an Agent."

"Colonel," Tony tried, "when did she get you?"

"My first assignment for SHIELD was a security gig. My partner, Mulligan, was an ass. Playing with some ceramic jars we were supposed to be guarding. One of them broke and _she_ came out. She tried him first, but he died, so she took me.

"I wish I'd died."

His mantle looked furious and damaged enough Tony couldn’t help but think he wished he'd died during the procedure to get rid of her more than he wished he’d died when she took him. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. He knew _his_ view of Fury was corrupted by Maeve, but that didn’t mean he wanted the guy to kill himself or anything.

O'Neill must have seen it too, because he frowned, "You have a duty, Colonel. To your country. To your planet. We need to know what she's done, how she's compromised our defenses."

"And everything you can tell us about Hydra," Captain _We Won't Stop Until All of Hydra Is Dead or Captured_ added.

Fury blew out a breath. "There's a fortress. In Sokovia. We took it about a year ago under the guise of SHIELD peacekeepers dealing with one of the many Sokovian Rebellions, but it's actually manned by Hydra. Everyone in it is Hydra… except the test subjects."

"Test subjects?" Tony prodded.

"Maeve was trying to engineer the perfect host. Mutants fascinated her, she saw them as a way to increase her personal power, but she wanted the strongest mutation she could find in her new host. She also wanted a female because she couldn't use me to..." Fury frowned, considering his words, "_spawn_."

"So, she was doing human experimentation?"

“Yes and no.” Fury shook his head. "Her idea, her supplies, but she put Wolfgang von Strucker in charge of the project."

"Jeez, even his name sounds Hydra-ish," Tony complained.

"She didn't tell him what she needed. She just told him they were making human weapons for Hydra. There's been a lot of kidnapping since the research station's been started."

"von Strucker's in Sokovia?" Coulson asked. He looked at Tony after Fury nodded, "He's on our list but we haven't been able to find him. He was a level 7 SHIELD operative."

"He's in Sokovia," Fury confirmed verbally. "He's not a Head of Hydra, but he's been working himself in that direction. His base should give you data you can’t find anywhere else, if you can get to it before the failsafes wipe it all."

"That where you took Loki?" Clint asked.

"They tried questioning him,” Fury said by way of agreement. “Hydra would love more of those staff weapons.

"When you pushed the issue, Stark, I managed to convince her the source of staff weapons would be more valuable than just the one you had. I figured that was less immediately dangerous than that scepter falling into Hydra's hands. And I figured there was no way that smug bastard would answer any of their questions." Fury shrugged at the handful of shocked looks her received. "I was right, by the way.

"When nothing came of questioning him, it was decided to make him a Winter Soldier."

"The fuck is a Winter Soldier?" Clint demanded.

"You're not going to like it," Fury sighed.

-*-

"Alright," Tony clapped his hands and scrubbed them together. "We need plans. We got two things we need to do: retrieve Loki and deal with Maeve's pet snakes.

"First question: do we do these at the same time or separately?"

"Same time," was Honey Bear's immediate verdict. "We know Hydra knows about Fury's little hideaway and he was one of the few that could link Loki and the Research Outpost. If they decide to retaliate, they could destroy the hideaway and we'd lose everything Maeve collected there. Or if they were monitoring the location and saw us go in, they would know Fury was compromised."

"Same time," Cap and Coulson agreed simultaneously. The others just indicated their agreement in various ways; nods, thumbs up and the like.

"Okay then. Who is going where?" Tony asked. "I feel like we should have Avengers at both locations."

Bruce raised a hand hesitantly. "I should go to Paris. They might need me for the science and the Hulk tearing up the Sokovian countryside doesn't exactly keep a low profile."

"He's right," Honey Bear agreed. "We haven't specifically talked about it, but the political situation is Sokovia has been volatile for years. Things are quiet right now, but we don't want to do anything that could set off the powder keg."

"So, we get inside fast and keep the fighting inside as much as possible," Cap offered.

Coulson shook his head. "The Keep isn't that far outside of Novi Grad, the capital city of Sokovia. Gunshots would be heard."

"And none of you losers can use a bow," Clint grinned.

"So, we use the beacon guns," Tony shrugged. "Since Bruce has the science covered in Paris, I'll cover the science at the Hydra _Research_ Outpost."

"The Iron Man suit isn't really low profile, Tones."

"JARVIS can paint it," he countered. "I'm used to flying around sure, but Clint's been teaching me self-defense against my will. I can hold my own."

Clint nodded his agreement, "Stay in the damn suit, though."

"Whatever you say, Honey."

His sub made a face and flipped him the bird. Tony just grinned.

"I'm going to Sokovia," Steve announced like someone was going to argue with him. As if anyone doubted he was going to do anything other than storm the castle. Storm the _Hydra_-filled castle.

Colonel Jack shrugged, "SG-1 will go with Fury and Banner to talk to the fishes.

"We'll probably need more SGC personnel afterwards to secure the facility so we can get everything out of it, but we won't bring them in until Carter and Fury have disabled the defenses."

"Clear everyone you bring in with FRI and JARVIS," Tony ordered. "We aren't sure we have everyone and we can't assume Hydra's our only source for spies. Especially, not when you consider the research the SGC does and the kind of budget you guys have."

Jack just inclined his head.

"No one is dragging Janie away from the Stargate data," Darcy cleared her throat and leaned forward. "But I'm going with SG-1."

When Jack started to argue, she raised an eyebrow at him. "It’s an apartment in Paris, Jack, not exactly enemy or hostile territory. I have my taser, I'll be fine."

"Fine," Jack frowned. "But you will follow orders and I want it noted that I objected to this."

She managed not to smirk or anything at his quick capitulation, which Tony considered a minor miracle when you take into account the state of their not-working relationship. Instead, she just nodded and straightened to listen more seriously to the rest of the meeting now that it applied to her directly.

"I don't hit quite as hard but, if no one objects, I'll fill in for Bruce in Sokovia," Rhodey offered.

Bruce gave him a relieved smile, "I'd be glad if you did."

When that got them only nods, Honey Bear continued, "And I feel it would be most appropriate if I ran the operation."

Everyone turned to look at Steve who just looked back at them confused. "What? A Colonel outranks a Captain. I know I was down a long time but I didn’t sleep long enough for that to change."

"You won't have a problem taking my orders?" Rhodey pushed.

Steve shook his head. "Part of leading is knowing when to follow and I've been taking a colonel's orders for a long time. Maybe he wasn't Air Force but there wasn't a separate Air Force at that point in time either."

Rhodey just nodded once accepting, staying silent in an attempt to keep his dignity but Tony could see the heart eyes he was rocking. Being compared even obliquely to then-Colonel Phillips who went on after Cap's crash and World War II to become one of the Air Force's first Generals and the second Chief of Staff of the Air Force probably made Honey Bear's _life_.

Fuck, he was glad JARVIS recorded everything. He was going to need a clip of this for posterity. And possibly for blackmail.

Clint elbowed him gently in the ribs and he pulled the other man more firmly against his side. "You're going to Sokovia, right?"

"Like I'm going to let you go into battle without me," Clint scoffed. "And you need at least one silent killer on the op."

"May will go to Sokovia," Coulson told them after a brief consult with his wife. "But, unless you feel strongly that you need me too, I'm going to Paris to represent SHIELD's interests."

When Cap and Rhodey frowned like they were going to argue, Tony cut in, "Let’s review the Station's plans. FRI?"

"Got it, Boss." She started projecting static floor plans—live floor plans with color coded dots indicating life signals, and some live footage from around the keep. "I infiltrated their systems when Colonel Fury positively identified the location yesterday. I can cut off all outgoing communication the moment you need me to, and I have already disabled the installation's self-destruct."

"That won't give you away?" Jack asked.

FRIDAY sniffed. Honest-to-god _sniffed_, all indignant. "They won't know I'm here until I want them to, Colonel."

"They done anything while you've been watching?" Tony asked, grinning at his girl’s sass.

"They have some concerns about Colonel Fury's lack of contact. Apparently, they had check-ins arranged and he's missed one. von Strucker seems agitated by it in private, but he's keeping a calm facade for the men."

"Fuck," Fury sighed and patted his pockets. "Motherfucker. I don't have my phone. Can you send a message with a phone number you don't have?"

"Of course, Colonel Fury."

He immediately rattled off two phone numbers to FRI. "From the first to the second, send 'The fish are singing and the birds are biting' then in a second message send '88213' with no dashes or spaces."

"Done, Colonel Fury." They waited several moments for FRI to continue, "von Strucker has received your messages and seems to be settling down."

"Good," Fury nodded. "Keep an eye on him though and let us know if he does anything that is in any way odd. He's a crazy motherfucker. There's no predicting him."

"Will do, Colonel."

"Alright," Tony took control again, "Let's plan."

They settled into an intense dissection of the station's defenses and the guard rotations as far as FRI's observed them.

There were no recordings of the prisoner experimentation area, which was odd. FRI supplied them archived footage of Loki being marched inside, led by Fury and von Strucker. There was no matching footage of him being walked out again so they had to assume he was in there. But—

"Why wouldn't they have security footage of the experimentation area?" Tony asked, deeply concerned by the entire idea. "It's a no brainer so far as security is concerned. Or if you needed to review something that happened after the fact which, you know, is going to be necessary at some point, if the experiments are as volatile as what Fury’s saying makes them seem.”

"They probably have security footage," Clint shrugged. "It's just on a completely separate network. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen it."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning May and I go in ahead and find the hidden security room. If they're hiding a secondary security network, it's probably not limited to just cameras."

"We're already sneaking in," Cap objected. "Why not just go together?"

And they were arguing again.

By the time they settled that and all inherent issues, it was damn near dinner time.

That, of course, sparked another argument.

"We can't wait for tomorrow!" Cap pretty much snarled. "There are people being experimented on by Hydra! They are suffering! We have to help them!"

"We won't be able to help them at all if we die trying to get to them," Rhodey countered with a patience Tony was pretty sure had been cultivated for dealing with him. Cap should be fucking thankful for that but he obviously was not. "Then Hydra would either kill them to keep anyone else from taking them or hide them so well that they never get any help at all!"

For being willing to follow orders, Cap sure was being bullheaded about the plan. Tony and Rhodey exchanged looks. This was going to be such a nightmare. Just—on _so many_ levels.

When the shouting didn't even make sense any more, Clint shoved two fingers in his mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Several people winced. Steve actually flinched as if he’d been struck which made Tony wonder about Super Soldier senses, but now was _not the time_ so he focused on his sub like everyone else.

"To recap," Clint said roughly. "Because I'm fucking tired of having the same argument.

"_Tomorrow_, because we're all fucking exhausted, we are loading up a Quinjet and flying to Paris. Team Fish will headquarter themselves in Tony's condo there. Tony will have to get them past security but that shouldn’t take more than an hour.

"In Paris, Team Fish will tackle Maeve's Trophy Case and the rest of us, Team Boom, will move on to Sokovia.

"Once in Sokovia, Team Boom will park at May's safe house until after dark. Under the cover of darkness, May and I will sneak in and attempt to secure the hostages. When everything inevitably goes to shit, Iron Man, Cap, and War Machine will swoop in and save our assess. Beam outs only, no guns. Kill if you have to, but try to avoid killing scientists because they might be useful later. Am I forgetting anything?"

"A staggering amount of detail," Tony snarked. He couldn't help but grin at the glare his sub gave him. "But you are essentially correct."

"Good," Clint nodded and stood. "Because I want some food and you owe me some dick, sir."

"Owe you?" Tony asked, shocked and delighted as he followed his sub toward the elevator. "How do you get that I owe you?"

Notably, no one followed them out.

"I haven't killed anyone today and I sat through that entire fucking meeting without maiming someone. Not even a little bit—and I was _tempted_. Isn't it your policy to reward good behavior?"

"It's a good policy and you like it, so I don't know why you're complaining about it," Tony sassed right back as they enter the elevator.

"I'm not complaining about the rule, sir, I'm _citing_ it."

“Ah, my mistake.” The elevator doors closed behind them and Tony burst out laughing, "Their faces!"

Clint grinned and pulled him closer until Tony had him crowded against the wall. "Makes me wish I was plugged so you could fuck me right here."

"No anal at mission time," Tony tutted. "You could get injured too easily. You know the rule."

"I do, but that doesn't mean I don't want dick." Clint pouted. He _pouted!_ It was adorable.

"Oh, you're getting dick. We just have to eat first."

"As you will, sir."

-*-

Darcy stopped outside of Fury’s townhouse in Paris with a frown. It was beautiful. Obviously old, but it looked rather like it was shoved into place between two larger, more modern buildings simply to make the most of the available space.

Compared to Tony Stark’s ‘little place’ with its five fucking floors done in a beautiful blend of classic marble, gilded moldings, and modern conveniences that screamed Pepper Potts-levels of class, this was—eh. French dishwater? Useful, interesting colors, but not what anyone would like it to be.

Three levels, tons of windows which had to be a security nightmare, and Fury just walked up to the door and turned the knob. The fuck?

“Requires fingerprint and blood sample,” he explained as he held the door open for them. “Don’t use the elevator. It works, but it’ll explode if anyone without enough naquadah in their blood tries to use it.”

And he led them right down a short hall that deserved its own spot on the eccentric-to-criminally insane scale. Black and white parquet floor with a gold and red bench to one side. The red…tapestry? With golden _swords_ on it moved things further along the scale to serial killer rather than tasteless, and Darcy scurried after Fury rather than look at it too closely, because the swords were wavering like a heat mirage and she was really okay with not seeing whatever was actually back there.

They went up a white marble staircase with a red and gold carpet runner that was trying really hard to be classy, but missed—by a mile.

One level up he led them through a postage stamp library/sitting room that at some point belonged to Hannibal Lecter, probably. Then they travelled through the World’s Creepiest Bedroom and into the Bathroom of Maximum Strange. No toilet, but there was a sink and a shower. Only the _shower_ was a perfect circle about six or seven feet in diameter. The shower head was hung right above the middle, directly above the drain, and the curtain was all bunched up in one section on the far side from them.

Fury kept walking until he was _in the shower_. Coulson followed him right in and they just waited.

“Well?” Fury asked impatiently.

“Right,” Daniel nodded and followed them up.

“Transportation Rings,” Carter sighed and went as well with Teal’c on her heels.

Darcy checked with Colonel Jack because, strangely, he seemed to be the most sensible of them all in this particular situation. Well, other than Coulson. But Coulson had been following Fury’s body around so long it was habit, and his opinion couldn’t really be counted on, in her mind. Jack just rolled his eyes and gestured for her and Bruce to proceed him.

“It’s safe,” he promised, so she stepped _into the shower_ with five other adults.

Bruce stepped up behind her with Jack the last one on board. She watched as Fury stepped on the drain popup with his foot, locking it down.

He held it down until a set of thick stone rings probably about half the size of a stargate—and very similar looking—dropped out of the decorative tile ceiling to surround the shower. Light flashed over them, and when it cleared the rings were moving back into the ceiling, but they were somewhere very much not where they started.

“The fuck?”

“Transport rings,” Captain Carter finally explained. “Goa’uld version of the elevator, basically, but they don’t always go in straight lines.”

“Obviously,” Darcy deadpanned. She was pretty sure there weren’t dark caves of sparkling rock under modern Paris. The cave was very, uh, room shaped? With solid gold trim and crown moldings. And torches. Couldn’t forget the torches.

“This way.” Fury walked right up to a wall and, without pause, walked _through _said wall.

Even Coulson hesitated this time, he put his hands up in front of him as he got close. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when they sank into the wall, considering Fury had walked through it but somehow it was.

“I thought you said goa’uld weren’t original,” she frowned. “That they couldn’t come up with their own stuff.” Because this was definitely something she’d never seen before. Stark’s holograms might be close? But he’d never used them like _this_.

“We’re fairly certain most goa’uld tech was actually created by a race that came before called the Ancients,” Daniel explained. “They were one of the Four Great Races, the builders of the Stargates.”

“So goa’ulds are scavengers.”

“Indeed,” Teal’c agreed and stepped through the wall before the rest of them.

Daniel shrugged at her and stepped through with Bruce and Captain Carter. Coulson and Darcy went together with Jack, once again, bringing up the rear.

He was playing the rear guard, she realized. It was an uncomfortable thought but the members of SG-1 had the most experience with this type of situation so she resolved to leave it the fuck alone and let them do what they did best.

On the other side of the not-door was a hall that matched the room they had just left.

Looking back at the not-door she could see the ring room. Huh, one-way holograms? How did that work?

In the room closest to the ring room was a gigantic, beautifully carved sarcophagus. Not your traditional sarcophagus with a cross-armed dead guy on the lid but a sort of oval prism of silver and gold. It was the goa’uld healing bed she’d seen in so a number of reports from the SGC.

“We’ve yet to find an intact one,” Carter breathed. “Are you willing to discuss selling us this one?”

Fury shrugged. “I don’t want a damn thing in here. And Stark already discussed buying my entire _collection_. That’s my retirement fund.”

“We could probably retire you on another planet,” Jack offered.

“It’d be too great a security risk,” Fury shook his head. “Stark mentioned it, but I know everything she knew. Everything she did. It’s not an option for me.

“Think you guys could figure out if this is actually addictive, though? The reason goa’uld go crazy.”

Daniel blinked at him. “The Tok’ra are confident sarcophagus healing is the problem?”

“Maeve never used it,” Fury countered. “She couldn’t because it would have healed my eye and then she’da never gotten back into the Hall of Fools.

“I think naquadah is the problem. Maeve was old, she remembered the planet the goa’uld evolved on. They didn’t have naquadah in their blood, then. But all goa’uld are obsessed with it now. Even Maeve managed to make a ship-sized stockpile of it.” Carter squeaked at that pronouncement and Fury gave her a cool-eyed glare. “She got literally tons of it without ever leaving the planet, and it’s not a material that’s native to Earth.”

“Can you give us the gate address of the planet that goa’uld evolved from?” Daniel asked. “We could learn a lot about our enemies by studying their true origins.”

“If it’ll help you kill them all, I’ll even give it to you for free. Be aware of the Unas, though. They come from that planet too.”

“We’ve met,” Jack interjected wryly but didn’t explain.

“They are not to be fucked with,” Fury said.

“You are the master of understatement.”

“What else do you have here?” Darcy prompted, ready to move on.

“This room—” he led them on into a room full of little boxes. He opened the lid of one to show a bunch of vials filled with brightly colored liquids nestled in foam padding. “—is all of the various fluids she’s claimed from the other fish. You know how Hathor had a seductive allure?”

“Boy, do we,” Daniel looked vaguely guilty.

“Well, every one of them can exude something slightly different. Isis’s is similar to Hathor’s, though hers is about friendship, not seduction. Osiris can secrete a fluid that compels truth speaking in anyone he ever shook hands with. Marduk can send out this flesh wasting disease. Nasty shit. Sekhmet can increase strength and stamina in anyone she touches.

“Most of those have pretty obvious super soldier applications, if you can make them work. Make a human successfully reproduce the fluids or whatever.”

“And Hydra is?” Coulson questioned. “Making super soldiers?”

“Of course.

“Egeria’s gift is a little more interesting. She can secrete a liquid that boosts human immune systems and increases healing.”

“Like a HIV/AIDs cure?” Darcy asked.

“If Maeve had cared about humanity at all, sure,” Fury shrugged. “I was actually thinking about Teal’c.” When they all blinked at him, he sighed like they are all extreme personal trials set on this good Earth just for him to endure. “The prim’ta replaces his immune system but he no longer works for a System Lord. Are you just going to let him die when the prim’ta is mature?”

Jack rocked back on his heels, looking more than a little sick.

“Egeria will have to spawn to continue her people,” Darcy guessed. “He can carry one of those?”

Fury was not impressed. “What about the other Jaffa that follow his example and leave the System Lords? Are you going to make Egeria spawn several million prim’ta to support all of them?”

“Well, no,” Darcy bit her bottom lip. “Are we sure the sarcophagus can’t fix that for him?”

“The SGC has probably two, maybe three, years to find out. Before that prim’ta starts to slowly make him sick over the course of another two years after that. Until he either dies and it escapes him or he purposely lets it out.” He turned to lead them on. “Weapons in the next room.

“Some of it is so old and damaged it’s only good for parts, but some of it’s new. There’s even a few crates she managed to get off the NID just before the Invasion.”

“I recognize those,” Daniel said in a sarcastically cheerful way.

“The Seth op?” Jack questioned. He looked at Fury. “Found in Washington state?”

“From outside Seattle,” Fury agreed. “Found them on their way to Canada of all places.”

“We need to get a leash on those assholes.”

“NID?”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “We don’t even know where they came from.”

“They’re sort of like SHIELD Internal Affairs,” Fury informed him. “She encouraged them to—well, let’s say she encouraged them to go a little further than was actually necessary.”

Coulson sighed and shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Pretty sure you got most of them in your Hydra clean up.”

“So, Hydra knows about the Stargate?”

Fury just nodded.

“How to use it?” Jack pushed.

“No, she controlled that information religiously. She managed to keep a gate out of the hands of the Russians and she got a dialing device along with Sekhmet from Napoleon’s collection, but she didn’t have the technical knowledge to get them to work together. That’s in the next room.”

Standing at the DHD, looking at the Stargate, was actually a powerful experience for Darcy. She couldn’t see, exactly, how a species could go from thrashing around in the mud and dirt to figuring this damn thing out, but she could see how doing so would be a heady experience. How it could make someone feel powerful. How it might make someone lose their mind a little bit.

And then, throw in genetic memories of that, that first _victor_ over circumstance. That pride could so easily become a species’ failing.

None of them really regained any decency until Egeria. And rather than stop and wonder if she was right, she was severely punished for making her own way. Damn patriarchy.

Or whatever you called it when a species didn’t strictly speaking have human-style genders.

She didn’t have time for slavers and murderers. Humans would never be safe in this galaxy as long as even a single goa’uld was a threat, but she could understand it a little. She could get a feel for how amazing that all made Egeria. For her to be sitting at the top of, probably, a literal pyramid of power as Ra’s queen and realize that no, this was wrong. And to do everything she could to stop the cycle.

“You’re empathizing again,” Jack poked her. Literally poked her. She wasn’t sure how they’d developed this grumpy sibling dynamic, especially since he was probably old enough to be her father, but she liked it.

“That’s kind of what I do, Jack,” she raised an eyebrow at him, “stand around and empathize.”

“Moral arguments are one thing. Don’t do anything stupid.”

She snorted. “You know me.”

“Not really.” She frowned at him and he shrugged. “We’re very different people. In some ways you’re more a mystery to me than Thor’s ever been.” He waved upward to indicate the one in orbit. “I trust you’ll do what you think is best, but I’m not sure you’ll think it through.”

“I’ll think it through,” she promised. “My conclusions just won’t match yours, is all.”

He just sighed and made a move along gesture. “We’re falling behind. You don’t wanna miss the tour.”

With a nod she followed the sound of voices into a room full of a bunch of large tanks. Each goa’uld was in its own free-standing tank full of greenish water and loaded with plants.

“—each tank is encased in its own forcefield,” Fury was explaining. “Goa’uld are damn tricky even when they don’t have goddamn hands.”

“We should keep the remains of the queen and at least one other for study,” Captain Carter said. “But we can zat the rest out of existence. Right, Colonel?”

“Right you are, Captain,” Jack drawled lazily.

Darcy looked to Daniel, expecting him to be the voice of reason. Surely, they couldn’t just murder these creatures.

Daniel just shrugged at her. She’d never seen his gentle face hold such a dark, furious light. “We should take photos. Or videos. Proof of death.”

“No biological tissue,” Fury reminded them. “The System Lords could just clone the motherfucker to resurrect them if we took samples.”

Daniel grimaced and dug something out of his calf pocket. A camera. “We’ll do video.”

“Where’s Egeria?” Darcy asked because she did _not _want to see this. She got it, kind of, but she knew she could never just let it happen and that meant she had to leave.

Fury pointed at one of the aquariums. “Kill Osiris first. If you’re keeping Isis to study her, you don’t want her to have an established mate should she escape. Finding and negotiating a new mating will slow down her plans for universe domination.”

“Oh, we’re not keeping them _alive_,” Jackson said with an almost feral sweetness. “We’re keeping them to dissect.”

“Start with Osiris anyway, but leave some for me.”

Fury led her out of the room and into a separate chamber. There was only one tank in this room with a freaking _huge_ worm thing. Wrapped around a dinky little pirate ship decoration that had been thrown into her aquarium like an extra little fuck you.

“Maeve had to separate her,” Fury explained. “The others got extremely violent and would not settle if she was around.”

“So, they can communicate with each other? Somehow?”

“Yeah, it's one of the abilities they lose when they leave this form to become a rider, though.”

“So, her host won't have to carry all that in their body?” Darcy double-checked. “I mean that’s got to weigh fifty pounds!”

“No,” Fury sort of settled himself in to stare at her.

“But the one they pulled out of you was so large. It didn’t look that different from Osiris except for the bone crown thing it had.”

“She was preparing to leave me,” he explained.

“Leave you? But as a host, being as cold and analytical as I can, even I can see you were probably the most useful person she could have had.”

“Yeah, but she couldn’t use me to spawn prim’ta, which she needed to enslave Jaffa and to build a lasting empire,” he reminded her. “And she was going to take one of the female experiments in Sokovia, Wanda Maximoff. Her mutation is ridiculously powerful and Maeve would have gotten the bonus of the brother’s servitude without even trying.”

“That’s horrible. What would have happened to you? I mean, could you have survived that? Obviously, you could. Since you did.”

“The host usually survives the symbiote leaving, unless the symbiote is vengeful or reckless. She could have chosen to tear me up on her way out, but I have to think she’d have used me as her first test subject for Wanda’s abilities. As she would have done for anyone else that witnessed the event because she wouldn’t have wanted the truth of her existence to get out.”

He watched her speculatively for a few moments. “Of course, most hosts are rendered insane by the thousands of years of being used against their will.”

“Does it hurt? When they take control?”

“She was only ever in control so I have no idea what it would be like to be a Tok’ra.” When she didn’t say anything, he turned to look at the glass and continued. “Her emotional state ran through me all the time. When she was pissed, I would burn with it. My blood would feel molten and I’m pretty sure I would run a temperature. Generally, though, Maeve was a cool customer. Life was like swimming in ice water, watching myself do things I never would have imagined before.”

“How do they get in?”

“Goa’uld enter through the neck. The host is held face down and they burrow in with their full physical form. Leaves a scar,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “And then the body is allowed to blend physically with the host while the symbiote buries itself in the host’s mind.

“Tok’ra, theoretically, since they only take willing hosts, go in through the mouth. You see, they don’t have to worry about being reminded of the host’s look of horror at seeing them every time they look in the mirror because the host has been thoroughly educated on the matter of blending and knows what they’re getting into by that point of the process.”

“Someone’s going to swallow that?” she asked doubtfully because no fucking way.

“She’ll shed her outer form and only the core of her would enter the host. About the size of a hoagie roll,” he held up his hands to indicate the size. “And you wouldn’t swallow it, it would bury itself in the back of your throat and settle into your spine and brain.”

“What are you thinking, Sparky?” They turned to see SG-1 et al lingering in the doorway behind them.

“I didn’t think my questions were very subtle, Jack.”

“Then how about you explain your thinking?”

“We don’t have a way to communicate with her,” Darcy immediately answered. “And we can’t just throw her back to her kids to deal with.” She waved a hand.

“When I was,” she pursed her lips together—still, after all these years she was not willing, not able, to make herself say the word. “After I was assaulted, I couldn’t imagine going home and telling my mom about it. I couldn’t handle her crying and trying to empathize, but really making my pain about _her_. I can’t imagine that feeling is any different when you're the mom.

“She deserves a say in what happens to her from here.”

“But isn’t Steve, uh, Captain Rogers your...” and Carter made a weird gesture at her neck.

Darcy just raised both eyebrows. She needed the other woman to articulate the really fucking stupid question right the fuck now.

Carter verbally flailed for a bit before finishing, “Your dom wouldn’t approve.”

Coulson cleared his throat. “The only one of us that could use that argument with any credibility would be Clint.” _But he's not here_, went unsaid but not unheard as he focused on Darcy. “Clint would tell you that the submissive holds all the power in a d/s relationship—”

“Indeed,” Teal’c, of all people, intoned.

“—and if your dom doesn’t like you doing something that you feel is right or tries to punish you for doing something you haven’t specifically contracted against, then he’s not your dom and you should leave his ass. With prejudice.

“So, do what you feel is right,” he concluded. “And stick with it, even if other people don’t like it.”

Darcy nodded and turned back to the aquarium. Egeria had definitely noticed them. Did she look scared? Did she look curious? Darcy couldn’t tell, and she kind of hated it.

“How do I do this?”

Fury huffed at her but walked up to one of the walls and waved a hand to reveal a golden panel with gemstone buttons. He hit a few and the wall framing the aquarium wavered then disappeared. A fine gold staircase dropped down from the ceiling and settled a platform at the edge of the tank.

He turned and leaned on the wall, crossing his arms with a look of Epic Disappointment.

Darcy ignored him, moved up the ladder and knelt on the platform.

Egeria was there. She was circling curiously, or maybe nervously, less than a foot below the surface. After several moments, she poked her head above the water to get a closer look.

Darcy smiled encouragingly and nodded. “That’s good, come on.” And then she opened her mouth in invitation.

She kept her mouth open as Egeria inched closer, though she did have to swallow a few times because dry mouth. She closed it again when Egeria inched onto the platform to stare at her in the open air.

Darcy didn’t help her get settled because she knew she wouldn't want a stranger touching her if she were in Egeria’s place. She just backed up and waited.

Egeria opened what was probably her mouth in that body and Darcy copied her.

There was a sound not unlike an airsoft gun and something meaty hit the back of Darcy’s throat. She staggered as a weight settled in her mind, kind and patient and vast.

‘_Hello, Darcy,’_ a soft feminine voice said in the back of her head. _‘Thank you...for my freedom.’_

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” she opened her eyes to see Jack holding her while Bruce checked her pulse. She felt like she was on the floor but she couldn’t remember leaving the platform. “You’re alright.”

“Did it work?” Bruce asked.

_“May I?” _was asked in here head again._ “Just bow your head if I may respond for us.”_

Darcy bowed her head and felt her eyes pulse with heat. Then her head rose without any input from her, without her even thinking about it. Then her mouth opened and said, in a strangely low and multi-tonal voice, “I am Egeria.”

# Chapter Eleven

"Sir," JARVIS's voice sounded softly through the Quinjet.

"Yeah, J?" he asked, settling his head a little more firmly in Clint's lap.

"Sir, the HOMER cluster has been breached."

Tony sat up immediately. "What?"

"The HOMER cluster has been infiltrated," JARVIS repeated. "HOMER has been disabled. FRIDAY and HELEN are responding."

"Which location?" There were technically twelve HOMER clusters around the planet that his kids lived in. To hide the exact number of servers they were all named for the kids’ dog, as Clint called him, HOMER who guarded the server farms while they went out and played in the world.

"The Tower Cluster, Sir."

Fuck. "Show me," he pulled a pad from the cargo net behind Clint. "Tell FRIDAY to take point,” because this kind of cyber warfare was exactly what she was built for. “Tell HELEN to hold back, stay in reserve."

"Someone's hacking the kids?" Clint asked, honest concern in his voice. "I thought no one could hack the AIs." Because they had souls and a soul couldn't be hacked.

"Theoretically, another AI could do it," Tony admitted grimly as his fingers flew over the Pad.

"Who else has AIs?" Steve asked, leaving his impromptu flying lesson up front to stick his nose into everything.

"No one is supposed to. I keep track of that shit, for obvious reasons. Several people are trying. Hammer Tech, AIM, Oscorp, but they're all at least ten years away."

"Twenty years for Hammer Tech," Clint offered wryly and Tony flicked him a smile.

"Those are all the official people?" Cap asked.

Tony nodded absently.

"So, it's someone unofficial."

Tony froze and realized what Cap's getting at, "Hydra."

"We were due some backlash," Clint agreed grimly.

"Yeah but they shouldn't know it was _us_, though."

"They're evil, not stupid." Clint snorted. "The only thing that changed, as far as they’re concerned from before their people started disappearing was the formation of the Avengers. And we're all living in the Tower."

"Yeah,” Rhodey agreed with a frown. “It's a no brainer."

“Life is easier when the bad guys are stupid,” Tony frowned.

“Word,” Rhodey agreed.

Clint laughed out loud and the two fist-bumped.

Tony ignored them. "Alright, J, tell FRI to lure him to the Jamaican Cluster, we'll trap him there. German Cluster is back up."

"Him?" Cap questioned.

"Yeah, him." Tony snarled. With a few sharp movements, he pulled up a picture and flipped it around. It was grainy and filled with green strings of symbols like something out of a Matrix movie but the image was pretty fucking clear.

He flipped it around and showed Steve.

Steve flushed immediately, all over furious, and growled, "Zola."

"Is the mission compromised?" was Clint's immediate concern.

"PLATO, who's taken over FRI's duties?" Rhodey asked.

There was a pause long enough to make all of them tense. "Me and JARVIS, guv.

"It looks like they’re evacuating, guv. von Strucker's getting in a chopper with guards as we speak. They're pulling in their perimeter and men with loading up with guns.

"Looks like they're going to kill the hostages, bruv."

"May, get us there," Rhodey ordered.

"On it!"

"Tony, you stay here and help the kids. If Hydra kills them, we're all fucked. Stay in the jet unless we call for you. The rest of us are going to pair up. Clint and Cap, me and May. We're going to go fast. Take 'em down, we'll beam up any survivors after.

"We'll go straight for the prisoners," Cap offered.

"May and I will go for the scientists,” Rhodey decided. “Beam them up, get them out of the way in case we need them to answer questions later."

"You'll call me if you need me," Tony demanded.

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "I already said I would, Tones."

Tony flicked his eyes to Clint who nodded then lifted his head, putting his purple and black field collar on display with pride. It was a heady reminder of his submission. Something inside Tony unclenched and he nodded right back.

"Five minutes!" May announced.

Rhodey stepped into his suit and it started to seal around him. Cap pulled his cowl up and shouldered his shield. Clint pulled on his finger tabs and donned his bow and quiver.

"Cap and Clint, you're up!" May didn't even set them down properly on the upper terrace they identified for hostage access. She just dropped the ramp and got close. The two men scrambled out; Clint launched three arrows before they're even off the jet.

May took them up again, circled, and set them down properly inside the castle’s inner courtyard. She went down the ramp and just sort of faded into the night while Rhodey clomped his way down the ramp.

"Defense mode," he ordered JARVIS and the Iron Man suit moved to the top of the ramp, weapons primed.

"Guys," he felt the need to remind the team, "remember your call outs so J doesn't pump you full of holes."

"It would be greatly appreciated," JARVIS chimed in, sounding tense to Tony's ears.

"We got this, J. We got this."

"Of course, Sir."

-*-

Walking through the halls after an Avengers fight was a bit of an eye opener for Tony. He'd been through an Avengers fight and, of course, plenty he’d fought all on his own but he'd never strolled through carnage that was not at least partially of his own making.

It made a difference; he was coming to learn.

There were a lot of guys pinned to walls with arrows through their _eyeballs_. Some were pinned with arrows through shoulders, though those were mostly the commanders. Scientists were pinned by hands.

Those for the most part survived, anyway, he thought with amusement as he watched May signal to beam one up.

There were shield dents everywhere. And, apparently, Cap could decapitate people with the shield. That was good to know. Gross as fuck but good to know.

There were scorch marks on the walls, some were distinctly in the size and shape of May’s tiny hands.

And holy bullet holes, Batman.

He was more than a little glad that these assholes were all on his side.

"Where did you need me?" he asked May.

"We're missing three prisoners, including Loki." She jerked her chin to indicate further down the hall. "At the end of the hall, there's a room with a weird metal chair. Hawkeye thinks there’s something funky going on in there, but no one can find anything."

"Like secret compartment weird?" Tony asked hopefully.

She shrugged but there was a bit of a smile tugging at her lips. "Ask him."

He found the room easily enough. Clint stepped out when he heard the Iron Man armor clanking down the hallway, so that helped. Inside, Cap was tiredly guarding a second door while Rhodey and PLATO used War Machine to scan the walls for hidden doors and the like.

In the middle of the room was indeed a weird chair, just like May predicted. It was a shiny metal. Titanium, probably. Maybe Adamantium but Tony doubted it. The metal didn't have Adamantium’s signature swirl pattern though he supposed it could be there but was just too faint to stand up to the room’s harsh lighting.

There was no padding so the thing must have been damn uncomfortable. There were upper arm clamps but just on one side which was weird and there was a headpiece hanging off the back. All in all, it looked like Trip to the Optometrist as done by Tim Burton with Steve King. Pure fucking nightmare.

Especially when Tony got a good look at the hefty electrical lines going into the thing. How could anyone survive that? Just. Jesus.

Not seeing anything that jumped out on him, he activated his _Soul Vision_ as Clint called it.

Sure enough, there was a red ball of energy around the chair. As he stared harder it resolved itself into, well, wings. Fiery but not really, red wings.

"I'm Tony Stark," he told the ball of light and a head with a ridiculous red and gold crest popped out of the ball. A phoenix. The woman's spirit mantle was a fucking phoenix. Damaged as all hell, too, so this was at least one of the surviving hostages.

"We're the Avengers. Well, half of them anyway. We're here to rescue you."

The phoenix opened its wings which were so large that they scraped the ceiling and then folded them back into her body.

In real life, the vision in front of him wavered and the empty chair was revealed to have three people either on or near it. A red-haired young woman, a white-haired young man and Loki. Loki, horrifyingly, was strapped into the chair with the face mask in place over his head. He was tense and pale and still, obviously in pain.

"Someone cut the power."

"What?" Cap demanded even as an arrow flew across the room and took out a junction box.

It threw sparks and the electronic hum filling the room immediately died.

Loki sagged in the chair. The two unknowns on either side immediately set to getting him out of the chair and its restraints. Red fire matching the phoenix’s feathers danced from her fingers as she forced the restraints that they couldn’t physically work to release the Frost Giant.

"So," Tony drawled. "Who are you?"

"I'm Wanda," she answered, not taking her eyes off Loki. "That's my older brother, Pietro."

"From around these parts?"

Pietro snorted, "Not unless _these parts_ are in Virginia, no."

"Wait, Wanda and Pietro? Maximoff? Senator Sheppard's kids?" Clint asked.

"We are not his children," Pietro all but snarled.

Wanda flicked a finger of red fire at her brother and he yelped. "Yes. Our mother married the Senator when we were eight. He is a good man."

"He is," Clint agreed with a nod.

Tony elbowed him, lightly because suit. "You know them?"

"I know of them," Clint corrected. "Missing senator's children was exactly the kind of thing SHIELD would deal with because it could be anything from someone seeking leverage to an attempt to unbalance the government.

"Fury skipped my team in the rotation and threw it right to Rumlow, though."

"Who was Hydra and therefore wouldn't have even bothered to look," Tony supplied.

"Right," Clint nodded again. "You guys want to go home? Or I guess you need a place to adjust to your changes?" He glanced at Tony questioningly.

Tony sighed in that melodramatic way that always made Clint grin. "Yeah, we got room in the Tower. And I'll get working on a formal training facility," he eyed Wanda, "outside of the city. I get the feeling we're gonna need it."

"Not without Loki," Wanda was adamant. "He taught me how to get past the control collar. We'd be dead with the rest of them if he hadn't."

"He's kind of the one we came for," Clint admitted.

The kids tensed up and Tony waved them off, "Not like that. We didn't realize how fucked up everything was when we let them take him for questioning. We took care of Fury, we are taking care of Hydra, and now we need to take care of Loki.

"Though I hope sleep and food will take care of this, because I don't think anyone knows Frost Giant physiology well enough to help him otherwise."

The kids relaxed.

"Can you get him out of the chair?" Pietro asked. "He weighs too much for me to pick him up alone."

"I gotcha, kid," Cap said, coming up behind Wanda. Together, he and Pietro did indeed get Loki back on his feet and sort of ambling towards the jet.

He was really out of it. Worse, he was _silent_. It was very uncomfortable for Tony but it had to be worse for Loki so he let it go and made sure the guy got a shock blanket when they settled him down in the jet.

The trip back toward the Tower was relatively painless and easy.

May called for SHIELD to clean up and take control of the castle with _actual_ peacekeepers this time and they were in the air.

An hour later and they were in Paris. Only Bruce and Darcy joined them. SG-1, Coulson, and Fury remained behind to focus on their newly expanded collection of goa’uld loot, which kept the crowding in the jet to a minimum.

Cap did not take the news that Darcy accepted Egeria as a passenger with any sort of grace.

Tony could feel for the guy, he really could, but he hadn't contracted with her in any way so Tony’s sympathy was at a minimum.

He knew the guy understood the importance of the sub contract. It was all up in the BDSM educational materials he’d had JARVIS ninja onto the guy's Pad and JARVIS had confirmed that Cap had read them. So, really, the only person at fault in this situation was Cap. While his feelings were understandable, he didn't actually have the right to them.

Well, he didn’t have the right to _express_ those feelings.

Clint left the cockpit section to kneel at Tony's feet. He looked, well, Tony didn't know how to qualify that look.

"Everything okay?" he asked as he ran a comforting hand through his sub's hair.

"Yeah, just thinking."

"You don't seem to like whatever you're thinking about."

Clint just made a face.

"Is this about Darcy and Egeria?" Tony felt the need to ask.

Clint shook his head against Tony's thigh. "I can see the appeal of it. Life for humans is pretty lonely, you know? And now she never has to be alone ever again—but I couldn't make that choice."

"So, you wouldn't accept a symbiote?"

"Maybe before," Clint’s eyes flicked to where Loki was a drooling, staring, pain potato. "Before New Mexico, I probably would have jumped at the chance. Now, it's repulsive.

"Maybe if a symbiote with vital intel needed an emergency host or it and, like, the _entire _Earth would be lost as a result? I could probably handle that but it'd have to be pretty extreme circumstances and they'd better be prepared to get the fuck out of me, ASAP."

"Well, we have a symbiote removal device now," Tony tried to comfort him. "So, in that very remote possibility that you get blended, we can take care of it."

He counted Mission: Comfort as a success because Clint just smiled up at him gently.

"So, what are you thinking about, really?"

"How are the kids?"

He was pretty sure that was a deflection and not what was actually bothering him but Tony went with it. "Good. FRI's damaged and probably traumatized, but she was the most equipped to basically kill another AI and she did it.

"She also stole everything off his home server and shared it with the other kids. It's..." Tony scrubbed a hand over his face, "not nice.

“J's in charge of sorting through it, but I'm going to ask Mr. and Mrs. Agent to sort through it. Since not-Zola was a Hydra Head, apparently."

"Was he actually alive? Like the kids?"

"Not really?" Tony hesitated. "It thought it was. It was Zola's attempt to deny death and overcome like six kinds of stage four cancer so he programmed enough of his personality into it that it would never believe he failed but it was missing the parts that make the kids truly alive."

"Like empathy," Clint agreed. "Pretty sure they're mourning HOMER, too."

"I'll bring him back if I can," Tony promised.

Clint shook his head, "I mean, if you want to? But make him stronger. More like a Cerberus, less like a German Shepherd."

"Will do," Tony gave him a sloppy salute and he laughed. "Now, what's really bothering you?"

"Just thinking about how to keep Loki safe. Making plans," Clint answered with reluctance. "You won't like it."

"Do I have the right to not like it?" Because he wasn’t going to be like Cap. He was _not_.

"No," Clint admitted. "Well, unless you have a problem with Loki living with us in the Tower and possibly becoming an Avenger?"

"You have a plan that will let us slip all that past the media?" Tony asked in surprise.

Clint just grinned.

"I can't wait to hear it."

Clint put his head down once more on Tony’s thigh and closed his eyes. Clearly it was his turn for a nap. Not that Tony could blame him because fighting. He had done it, Tony hadn’t.

When they landed at the Tower, Bruce, Darcy, and Wanda all accompanied them down to the Infirmary with Loki while the members of the party with ridiculous daily caloric requirements broke off for Snack Time.

"His treatment is complicated by the glamour he's wearing," Bruce explained after what appeared to be the most frustrating and fruitless physical examination ever. "I can't be sure where to stick him for an IV to give him fluids. I put a morphine film under his tongue to take the edge off the pain. It doesn't appear to have poisoned him but I'm not sure it helped, either. I can't even really get a solid reading on his vitals because of the glamour."

"Can we see if he can drop the glamour?" Tony asked. "Or is there a way to break it?"

"That would not be advisable, Lord Stark," Egeria warned.

He didn't know why she insisted on such old-fashioned forms of address, but it was hilarious. Clint obviously loved it and Tony was contemplating getting them a pair of huskies. Mostly for aesthetic reasons but also because Clint loved dogs and there were bound to be huskies in need of rescue just because Game of Thrones had happened.

Cap's face every time she said it was a fantastic bonus, too.

"And why is that, milady?"

"Even in my time, there were tales of the great and terrible Asgardians and their Frost Giant foes. A Frost Giant's true form was said to kill a human on contact. The merest brush of a hand would freeze one solid.” She frowned, looking over the patient. "If we had a hand device, I could heal him. It won't care about a glamour. If I tell the hand device to make him _better_, it will coax his tissues, whatever they are, into a more natural and healthy state for his actual physical body."

"We can get one from the SGC," Tony nodded. "J, put in a request and make it clear I expect _at most_ overnight shipping."

"Of course, Sir."

"What about that Tretonin stuff?" Bruce asked.

"Maeve was harvesting her captives for specialized fluids with different properties," he explained to the part of the class that was not in Paris. "Egeria's strengthens immune systems and improves healing. They call it Tretonin."

"I'm not sure how that would affect him," Egeria admitted, "or if that could even work."

Then she bowed her head.

When she looked up, it was clearly Darcy looking out at them. Tony could see the goa'uld choker she’d been wearing for about an hour now, just hanging like a lazy scarf across the shoulders of Darcy's yappy and stubborn little terrier soul mantle.

"We'd also have to give him some of our body fluids which could be awkward since he's not exactly awake," she said in a tone that could almost pass for cheer. Or sadism. It was multifaceted. "The Sleeping Beauty method comes to mind, but consent is still a thing."

"A very valid thing," Tony agreed.

"Consent is sexy," was Bruce's verdict and everyone in the room snickered.

"Sir," JARVIS chimed in, "I am receiving odd readings from the room you are currently in."

Everyone immediately started to look around. Nothing looked weird, but then Wanda flicked a bit of red at one corner. The red hit a transparent shield that shimmered gold on contact then faded harmlessly.

A beautiful blonde woman in layers of silk and armor stepped out of the shadows to reveal herself. "I am Queen Frigga, mother of Loki and Thor."

"Your highness," Tony gave her a mostly respectful nod. "Think you can help us out?"

She smiled gently, "That is why I have come."

She approached her son and studied him silently for several moments. After approximately a year, she lifted her hands and started making weird gestures. They weren’t all that different from Wanda’s little hand seizures really, and gold light started to stream from her to her son.

Loki inhaled sharply and started blinking his eyes. It took a few moments, but his eyes soon focused for the first time since they found him. He took them all in before focusing on his mother with an almost absent smile.

"Mother," he held out a hand to her once she stopped the light show. "What are you doing here? I didn’t think the Allfather let you leave Asgard."

"The King is dead, long live the King," she answered simply.

"_What?_" Loki demanded.

"I’m afraid that your father underestimated your brother's attachment to you and these companions. He forced Thor back to Asgard and demanded his focus on matters of the Realm like a good son and heir should. When your brother refused to give up on you, he destroyed Mjolnir in punishment."

Loki frowned and tried to sit up but Clint pushed him back down and adjusted the bed to put him in a seated position he didn't have to work for. Loki nodded his thanks. "Brother would not take that well."

"Indeed, repairs to the castle will be quite arduous.” A probably-inappropriate smile flickered across Queen Frigga’s lips. “But, on the bright side, all have learned to fear the thunder, and no one dared argue with your brother when he declared you his heir or called for your daughter to be returned to Court."

"Hel?" Loki asked, obviously shocked. "He called for Hel?"

"She is Thor's second heir and rightful Princess of Asgard," Frigg shrugged. "His one true heir should anything happen to you."

"They will hate that."

"They will abide by that," she countered shrewdly. "It's not as if any of them have the power to fight her off."

"What's wrong with Hel?" Tony couldn't help but ask.

"She's a reminder," Frigg answered. She flicked her fingers a bit and a projection formed from Loki’s temple of a lovely black-haired, green-eyed woman with dramatic mascara. Half of her face just happened to be icy blue with extensive scarification and a single red eye. "A reminder that no living Asgardian is less than half Frost Giant. The Aesir bred with them years ago to save their race but use glamours to hide the truth, even from themselves."

"My daughter is obviously part Frost Giant," Loki explained. "No glamour can hide it for more than an hour at a time, so she refuses to hide it at all. In punishment, the Allfather murdered her father and banished my daughter to one of the Dead Realms when she proved too powerful for him to kill."

"Dead Realms?"

"There were once Nine Living Realms," Frigg explained. "Each born of an Infinity Stone, a fruit of the Worlds Tree. Three have been destroyed, taking their Realms with them."

"Realm?" Tony asks. "Is that more different planet or more alternate reality?"

"Both and neither," she said, incredibly frustratingly. "There is no proper word for it in your language. Realm will have to do."

"What's an Infinity Stone?" Bruce asked.

"Like this," her fingers alight on the glowing gold stone at her throat. "The Mind Stone of Alfheim. It was the power source of the scepter my son was carrying."

"So, they're a power source?"

"They are many things." She focused on her son. "I saw the Mad Titan in your mind. He is trying to collect the Stones once more?"

"Yes, mother." Loki laid back more firmly on the pillows, looking exhausted. "His army is vast, perhaps a million strong…but if he were to collect the Stones?" Loki just shook his head.

"Why is that bad?" Tony asked. "I think it's time to tell the rest of the class."

"Each Stone is the key to a known element and a Living Realm. Were he to collect them all, he would control all elements required for life as we know it. He would rule all the Realms and none could stop him."

Loki shook his head. "That is not his goal. He has the Infinity Gauntlet."

"His plans haven't changed, then," Frigg concluded. "He still wishes to kill half of all life."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What?" Tony demanded even as Loki nodded to his mother.

She hesitated but answered, "With the Gauntlet and all six Stones, he could wipe out half the galaxy with naught but a snap of his fingers."

"What could that possibly accomplish?"

"He's courting Death. If he kills _all _of life, She, too, is lost and his goal is lost. But half? That would definitely get her attention."

"That's fucked up."

Frigg shrugged, "We all do crazy things for love."

"Not that crazy," Clint retorted. "So, what, we destroy one of these Stones? Then he can't have them all and do the thing?"

"No," Frigg shook her head. "Destroying a Stone would destroy a Realm and its inherent element." When none of them said anything, she continued. "What is a mortal life without time? If we destroy the Time Stone, there goes both Time and Earth. Without the Mind Stone of Alfheim, what are we? Without the Soul Stone of Asgard? We'd be nothing but automatons."

Tony frowned. "So, the Stones are Time of Midgard, Mind of Alfheim, Soul of Asgard, and...?"

"Power of Nidavellir, Space of Jotunheim, and Reality of Svartalfheim.

"The Soul Stone is well guarded, perhaps not in the Crown City but within Asgard. As is the Time Stone on Earth. The Power Stone is inside the Tesseract—”

"Which is hidden," Tony interjected. Not hidden well since it was sitting in a safe disguised as one of his kitchen cabinets but, still. Hidden.

"Odin's father, King Bors, hid the Reality Stone from the Dark Elves millennia ago and no one knows where. We cannot afford to return that to the Dark Elves because they _would_ side with the Dark Titan, like they did the first time.

“No one knows the location of the Power Stone, exactly, but Thor can set the Warriors Three on the trail. They may be idiots but they have a fool’s own luck.” Loki started choking on a laugh at his mother’s pronouncement. “They’ll see it done. For King and Asgard.

“I have the Mind Stone, which I was going to return to my brother in Alfheim, but now I'm not so sure."

"So, you're an elf?" Clint asked. "Legend says you're a Vanir."

"I am a Vanir," she explained. "But Vanaheim is one of the Dead Realms. Myself, my brother, and Hogun the Grim are all that remain of our once great race."

"Because your Stone was destroyed?" Tony asked.

“In the Mad Titan’s first Infinity War.”

"So that’s how you figured out what destroying a Stone would do?” She inclined her head in answer. “What was Vanaheim's element?"

"I know not. Now that it is gone, all knowledge of it is lost."

"Well, that's not terrifying." Tony settled his mind and refocused on the important bits. "So, this Mad Titan is the guy that was really behind the Invasion?"

"Yes," Loki agreed.

"And he's coming here?"

"He has to. Midgard holds three Infinity Stones."

“Two,” Tony corrected and pointed at Frigga. “You’re not leaving that thing here.”

She just smirked at him.

"Where is he now?"

"One of the Dead Realms,” Loki answered. “I know not which."

Not really helpful. "How long will it take for him to get here?"

"The closest Dead Realm to Midgard is Vanaheim," Frigg answered. "If he knew the hidden paths, he would be here already. Without those, I would estimate five of your years."

"Five years," Tony scratched his chin, "to counter a million-man army."

"It is possible," she offered. "If we return the Stones to their home Realms, those Realms would prosper enough to raise armies to help defend Midgard."

"What do you mean?"

"Without the Space Stone, and after being without it for thousands of years, Jotunheim is on the brink of extinction. Time between realms is flexible. Five of your years would be thirty on Jotunheim. Plenty long enough for them to build a fearsome army of Jotun."

"But then we'd have to deal with an army of Frost Giants after we've beaten this Mad Titan back."

"If you negotiate on good faith, and without the involvement of the Asgard, Midgard can no doubt make allies of the Jotun," she shrugged. "They need the Stone and you can give it to them. You need assistance and they can give it to you. I fail to see a problem."

Tony frowned. "Let me think about it." Because he wasn’t sure making allies without including his biggest ally, King Thor, was a wise idea. In fact, they should probably formalize their alliance with Asgard _first_ and approach Jotunheim together. Especially if the Asgard were no longer lying to themselves about who and what they are, that could open the door for peace between the two peoples.

Also, pretty sure lying to one ally about the existence of the other was not a good way to start an open and honest partnership.

She simply inclined her head in acceptance.

"You sticking around long?" Tony asked. "I can have quarters prepared for both of you."

"I would be glad to stay. The King bid me seek out and communicate with his brother. His message was extensive and will take much time to relay."

"Is Loki going to be staying here, though?” Clint asked. "Or has he been ordered back to Asgard?"

Frigga flicked her eyes to her son and only answered them after his nod. "King Thor has left that decision to his heir. He may either choose to remain on Midgard as an Avenger or return to Asgard where he will receive all proper and necessary care."

Clint raised an eyebrow at Loki who stubbornly refused to meet his gaze.

"Well, if you decide to remain,” Clint offered casually, “I have an idea for a disguise that would let you stay here and basically play the greatest prank ever on the entire Earth."

Loki looked up at that. "You have my attention."

"You don't mind being a woman, right? I mean myth says you bore a horse as a mare, and you just implied you carried a daughter for your baby daddy or husband or whatever."

"Gender is irrelevant," Loki scoffed.

"Alright, J, load up the Laura Barton Files."

"Loading," JARVIS confirmed and the air above Loki’s bed is filled with images and video of a quite frankly _gorgeous _woman of Middle Eastern descent. She was graceful and powerful and, it deserved to be said again, drop dead gorgeous.

"That's my sister in-law," Clint explained. "How my brother landed her, I still have no idea, but he did and then he transplanted to England to be with her."

"Who can blame him?" Tony muttered, earning him a bit of elbow in the ribs.

"Her government voluntold them to submit to Super Soldier experiments. It worked, physically, but mentally?" he shook his head. "Can you change your glamour to be her? As my brother's widow, it would give you an excuse to be here in the Tower with me. And the experimentation she officially survived could be used to explain away your abilities. And she preferred to fight with daggers, which Thor said were your preferred weapons too."

"And you wouldn't mind this?" Loki questioned. "Me effectively becoming your sister in-law? After everything I did to you—"

"I hate it less than the idea of you being punished for something you didn't exactly choose to do," Clint shrugged. "And I definitely don't want you killed before I've gotten to punch you in the face a couple times."

"Very well then," Loki chuckled. Whether it was because he thought Clint wouldn’t punch him or because he wasn’t afraid of a punch from a mere mortal, Tony couldn’t tell, but he was more than willing to build Clint an Iron Man gauntlet strictly for Loki punching.

"And she won't need the name?" Tony checked. "Because that last thing we need is for her to show up looking for revenge. No chance she'll show up to reclaim it or whatever?"

"None," Clint said with a dead-eyed certainty that filled Tony with dread on his behalf. "I guarantee it."

-*-

“Just so everyone knows,” Tony announced as they passed around the dim sum, “Loki will be altering his glamour tomorrow and taking on the name Laura Barton, Clint’s sister in-law—so get used to calling him that. Also, she/her are going to be her pronouns going forward.”

“That’s how he’s not getting prosecuted for the Invasion?” Darcy asked.

Tony shrugged. “We’ve established he was tortured and mind-controlled by this Dark Titan character.”

“And we’ve gotten all the intel we can out of him about that asshole’s army and plan,” Clint added.

“And he’s going to stick around and help us get ready for the showdown,” Tony finished. “I don’t see what else there is to do with him other than maybe a few sessions with a psychiatrist.”

Darcy thought about it and nodded. “Not quite the legal procedure, but I feel that.” She looked at Loki, “Welcome to the Madhouse.”

He gave her a small smile and picked up another dumpling without a word.

“What about the other?” Pietro asked.

Cap frowned, “What other?”

“There was one. He was working for them, Hydra. But, I don’t think it was by choice?”

“They used the chair on him a lot,” his sister agreed. “Probably once a week. And there were words they used to make him obey if they thought he would balk at an order.”

Pietro focused on his plate and wouldn't look at any of them. “Like when they made him hold us down so they could do things to us.”

“They called him Soldat. Or the Asset.”

“Soldat?” Clint asked. “Like, the Russian word for Soldier? I thought the Winter Soldier program didn’t really work? Aren’t they all supposed to be in cold storage because they went crazy or something?”

“That is correct, Agent Barton.” JARVIS chimed in. “Though there appears to have been a single success. The records obtained from Dr. Zola’s facsimile indicate the successful subject has been cryogenically frozen for the last decade.”

“Do you have a picture of him?” Wanda asked, looking up at the ceiling. “The success? Maybe Zola’s records are wrong.”

“One moment,” and JARVIS projected a series of images in the air above the table.

He started with a black and white still of a guy in a mask and with metal arm crouching in front of a water tower. Then he popped over a video of the same dude doing a full-blown murder strut as he popped a clip into a gun. At the same time, next to the first video, a second video played of the guy fighting like nothing Tony had ever seen. That level of full body commitment would’ve been enough to get anyone short of Cap killed, so the guy was no doubt a super soldier—or at least something like it.

Then there was an image of two pictures. The larger one was a still of a cryotube with the metal hand pressed against the face-level glass. Paperclipped to the front of that was the image of a man in a positively ancient US Army uniform that made Tony drop his dumpling.

Cap made a choked noise and spit out his eggroll. “_Bucky_?”

# Epilogue

An Instant Message window popped up before she could turn off her computer. Without her clicking it, the attached file opened and began to play.

"Personnel of Stargate Command, Area 51, and any other members of Project Nautilus," the Speaker began gravely. "My name is Tony Stark. Most of you have probably seen me around the SGC this last week. Well, everyone at the SGC saw me, actually. I made a point of meeting every single one of you.” He waved a hand dismissively.

He was clearly still inside the SGC. The wall behind him was the kind of blank gray stone that spoke to the labs on the level that she’d worked on for years now, and the tech she could see peeking into the edges of frame were nowhere near as advanced as Tony Stark would choose to keep in his own private workspace.

“As most of you know, one of the many Stark Industries think tanks, Rogers Research and Security, has taken control of your Project. It was sold to us last year by Congress. That means you all work for me.

“Add to that, the events of this past May the Fourth, and I’m taking Project Nautilus as my personal project so you’re going to be working _closely_ with me.

"If that bothers you, I understand. If it bothers you enough that you want to leave the Project, we'll let you go. Give notice, burn out your terminal leave, and we'll even give you a reference. Just do us all a favor and remember that the NDAs you signed when you joined the Project are still binding and will be for the rest of your life. No one dead or alive wants to end up in a hole courtesy of the United States government.” He shuddered melodramatically. “Just, no.”

"For those of you sticking around, we have some serious work to do." The screen panned out to show Tony sitting alone on a stool. "There's going to be changes and streamlining of things, like chain of command and requisitions, department adjustments. The kinds of things that would happen during any change of management.

"But," Tony grinned, "most of you are getting raises, too. Many of you have worked on the project for almost three years now without even a single increase or any sort of bonus outside of the occasional combat pay, and you guys have _earned_ that shit. The RRS, Stark Industries and, you know, the world, thank you for your loyalty and dedication to saving all our asses even when we didn’t know it, but not getting raises is bullshit and I'm not going to let that stand.

"Also. Less than 1% of you have taken vacation in that same three-year period of time. That is also bullshit. You do important work, but it's also important that you don't burn out.

“You also aren’t getting proper psychiatric support. Can you guess my opinion on that?” He raised both eyebrows demandingly.

“It’s bullshit,” she muttered.

“It’s bullshit!” he echoed, waving a frustrated hand. “You can't save the world if you're collapsing under the weight of your own depression. After we’ve met, talk to your managers, sign up for the paid time off I'm _giving_ you on top of your normal leave, and get out of here." Tony pointed at the screen. "I mean it. Sign up or you will be assigned a slot and not allowed on site for the duration."

Tony clapped his hands and scrubbed them together. "That was the fun stuff. Now, the stressful stuff. I said we have work to do. Project Nautilus has always been dedicated to defending the Earth against possible extraterrestrial threats.

"I hate to break this to you, but these are no longer _possible_ extraterrestrial threats. And I’m not talking about the goa’uld or whatever will take their place after we kick all of _their _asses.

“During the Battle of Midtown—you've seen the footage—I went through the enemy portal. This is what I saw on the other side." He let the clip from the Iron Man helmet fill the screen. It was just a few seconds of footage so he didn't talk over it.

"See this right here?" JARVIS replayed the clip and put a yellow circle over the most visible wigglers on the screen. "Those are the Leviathans. You know, the big bastards that wrecked large swathes of Manhattan just by existing.

"And my systems are able to verify the presence of hundreds of them just in that one clip."

JARVIS brought the camera back to Tony. He looked not quite worried, but concerned and more serious than he had been so far. "We have been able to reliably verify that this force is still coming to Earth. It's being led by a creature known only as 'The Dark Titan' and he is bent on wiping all of us out.

"Our sources have told us his press kit promises to kill only _half_ of his target planet's population, but the reality of the situation is that he will _collect_ less than three specimens from a planet and brutally murder the rest."

"Obviously, this is unacceptable," Tony shook his head, "and genocide anyway you cut it.

"So, we're going to stop it. We've got five years, best estimate." He held up fingers to count off his points. "We're going to build early warning systems, so even if we're wrong about our timeframe, he won't catch up by surprise.”

Two, “We're going to map our star system within an inch of her life, so we know the lay of the land.”

Three, “We're going to learn all of her tricks so we can use them to our advantage when the time comes.”

Four, “We're going to talk to our allies, make friends that will help us beat this.

“We're going to keep exploring, find proven tools and weapons to use to our advantage.” At five he started over with a single finger. “We also need more materials to build our defenses so our exploration teams need to keep their eyes open for that, too.”

Seven, “We're going to build our own weapons and ships, to keep this fight off the planet as much as possible.

"We need more personnel to get all this done, obviously. That's my immediate project. If you know anyone that you feel would be a good fit for the Project and can be counted on to be discrete, feel free to pass the recommendation up to your manager.

"We can do this, guys," he said bracingly. "Take your vacations, come back energized, and ready to hit the ground running. It's time to save the world."

Tony suddenly grinned, "The Iron Man Helmet clip will be available for onsite analysis, but this recording will self-destruct in three seconds."

The screen went black and the IM window the video appeared from disappeared completely. Sam rolled her eyes and stood to leave. She had plane tickets and a beach house in Hawaii that was calling her name.

“Have a good one, JARVIS,” she offered after a moment of indecision.

“You as well, Major Carter,” he replied just as softly. “Congratulations again on your promotion, and have a safe flight.”

She smiled at the closest security camera, knowing he’d see. “Thanks, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may eventually be sequel(s), I haven't decided yet. To be honest, I'm more likely to post any sequels I do write to my site so feel free to head over there and look around.


End file.
